


Sugar and Protein

by Tozette



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Crack, Degradation feels, M/M, Mutation, PWP, Sex Toys, Silly, This Universe Is Genuinely Just Porn, Vile Smut, briefly quite bleak, genesis rhapsodos does what he wants, thirty minute orgasms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-07-12 19:59:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7120342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tozette/pseuds/Tozette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angeal came home from the front, tired and dirty and aching for a hot shower. When he arrived at the Shinra complex though, it was to the news that one: Genesis’s shoulder wound had worsened so considerably that he was no longer considered fit for duty somehow; two: Sephiroth had, at some point, threatened to desert Shinra; and three: could he please go and collect them both for a meeting with the Science Department because obviously their concerns were being taken seriously now.</p><p>[Mutations! Sexy times! More mutations. Threesomes. Do it.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sugar and Protein

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sylvaine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvaine/gifts).



> Been writing this nonsense on my phone as I've been running around like a headless chook for the past few days. I cannot stress how non-serious this is, okay? 
> 
> The more I write of this silly thing, the more I realise that I keep coming back to Sylvie yelling 'OKAY BUT WHAT SHOULD I DO WITH--' so this terrible story is both a gift to and a product of [sylvaine's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvaine/works) imagination. And I'm not sure if they should find this dedication flattering or, like, bordering on libel.

Angeal came home from the front, tired and dirty and aching for a hot shower. When he arrived at the Shinra complex though, it was to the news that one: Genesis’s shoulder wound had worsened so considerably that he was no longer considered fit for duty somehow; two: Sephiroth had, at some point, threatened to desert Shinra; and three: could he please go and collect them both for a meeting with the Science Department because obviously their concerns were being taken seriously now.

It was a long, confusing meeting.

“Do you think that’s true?" Sephiroth asked, falling into step with Genesis as soon as they were done. He was taller and had no trouble keeping pace, despite the furious snap-snap-snap of Genesis’s boots on the floor.

“I don’t see why they’d tell us otherwise,” Angeal muttered, rubbing at the muscles in his neck.

“Really,” drawled Genesis.

“Well,” Angeal murmured.

“Perhaps he doesn’t know what it is,” Sephiroth mused, “and is simply suggesting--”

Genesis ground his teeth. “Oh, yes, let’s hear the perfect SOLDIER tell us all about our flawed genetic makeup--”

“Genesis,” sighed Angeal quellingly.

“You heard him!” Genesis hissed. There was something vile and vicious in his expression, and he whirled on Angeal with his coat flaring madly behind him. It was not lost on either of the others how he braced one shoulder during the movement.

“You should not have cut it off.” Of the two of them, Angeal had at least a few social skills, so of course it was Sephiroth who opened his mouth to bluntly tell Genesis what to do. “Not for Hojo’s sake, but --”

“When you have a great filthy wing sticking out of your side, you can make that decision!” Genesis’s voice soared, too loud for their location in the corridor. Other SOLDIERS on the forty-ninth floor twitched, although none was stupid enough to look their way.

Sephiroth’s expression shuttered. He straightened his spine. His withdrawal was almost tangible: spine straight, shoulders stiff, face blanked.

In response, Genesis swallowed back his vitriol. That was proof enough that Hojo’s ‘cure’ was working; two days ago he’d have gone for the throat. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, exhaled. His hands shook, fists tight at his sides, but --

Angeal startled them both with hands on their arms. He drew them away from the hallway, away from the bright halogen lights. “Come on,” he insisted.

Genesis ripped his arm away, but Angeal didn’t slow and Genesis followed. Sephiroth he released as soon as he knew he had their attention.

The ride up in the lift was tense.

Once the door of Angeal’s apartment shut behind them, Genesis sagged against the wall. It was obvious that one of his shoulders was taking the brunt of the pressure. Even on a SOLDIER, even after Hojo had been persuaded -- for a certain value of persuasion -- to address the problem of degradation, the loss of a limb was not a quick-healing injury.

“My friend,” said Genesis, with a bitter twist to his mouth and a throaty laugh in his voice: “The fates are cruel. There are no dreams, no honour remains. The arrow has left the bow of the goddess.”

“Act four,” Sephiroth said, almost automatically.

Genesis’s smile was no less bitter, but perhaps a little more genuine.

“What _happened_ while I was away?” Angeal demanded, turning to face them both.

His apartment was nice -- cleaner than Genesis’s, more personal than Sephiroth’s. It was small, all of them were. The doorway opened onto a comfortable living space, merging into a cramped kitchenette in one corner. The couch was worn and comfortable and there was a rack for his enormous sword right by the door. It looked like a home.

“You were in the meeting,” said Genesis. He might have shrugged but he was holding himself still. The injury was bothering him.

Angeal rubbed one hand through his short hair. “I gathered that you got -- sick, somehow? From the enhancements, and we could all get it? But--”

“Oh no,” Genesis laughed, humourless and cruel. “Not the enhancements.” He flicked his hair out of his face. “The SOLDIER program itself is fine. Project G, however--”

“Hollander’s Project G and Hojo’s Project S,” said Sephiroth, cutting off the increasingly dangerous rise of Genesis’s voice. “We knew I was an experiment; nobody told Genesis that you both were, too. Did you know?”

“I -- no.” Angeal went still. “I didn’t, but... it explains some things. I... And that’s what Project G is? G for -- for Genesis?”

“You didn’t know.” Genesis sagged against the wall. “No, not Genesis. G is for Gillian.”

There was a moment where Angeal’s expression visibly contorted. “No,” he said flatly. “She wouldn’t--”

“Yes. She did. Gillian Hewley, lab assistant and mother of one of Hollander’s failures -- that’s us, Angeal. Failed experiments. Sephiroth was their success.” He paused for breath. “And we -- we were the cast offs. They knew we’d sicken, they knew we’d die --” Genesis’s voice was hot with the beginnings of a really fine rage, trembling with it, and there was a terrifying lull when he stopped talking entirely.

“But they fixed it. That’s what that shot was for, wasn’t it?”

“Sephiroth threatened to desert. Their perfect specimen. Well, they couldn’t possibly have that! Not Sephiroth.”

The man himself, watching Genesis’s steadily rising hysteria, rubbed his forehead. “Degradation itself is curable... with the right infusion of a more stable ‘product’--”

“--and you don’t want to know which _product_ they used.”

Sephiroth shifted uncomfortably at that. “It’s mostly protein and sugars,” he said shortly. “And it’s hardly--”

Genesis started laughing wildly, sounding a little like a broken hinge.

Angeal winced. “What does this have to do with Genesis cutting off his own wing? Why did he _have_ a wing?”

“The process used to create us is... different from the one they use to create standard SOLDIERs. The First Class enhancements contain unprecedented levels of cells from an Ancient, apparently, and those cells enable... adaptability, in the host, to a degree.”

“We’ve been infused with them since birth,” Genesis took over. Sephiroth’s attempt at diplomatic language was more confusing than helpful -- as it usually was -- and Angeal turned toward him. “And other things. Grafts. Blood. Cell samples. Birds and beasts and monsters. There’s dragon in my DNA sequence, Angeal! _Dragon_!”

“And likely in Angeal’s," Sephiroth pointed out in what presumably he thought would be a soothing tone.

Genesis shot him a poisonous look. “Gillian Hewley was there to keep an eye on us both, failed experiments that we were. She’s been reporting faithfully since we were born.”

“That can’t...”

“Well, she did.” Genesis scoffed. Then he seemed to regret putting it like that. He closed his eyes. He got up and moved to sink down onto Angeal’s couch. He flinched.

“Don’t jostle it, you’ll start bleeding again.”

“I’ll buy Angeal a new couch.”

“The couch is the least of my worries. You’re saying that we’re all the product of some experiment in, what? Making the SOLDIER program?”

“Basically.”

“And complications from the experiment have made us sick? Why now? Why--”

“It was always there. It just started showing up now. Under stress. Under duress. Repeated strain, low immune function--”

“Wutai,” said Angeal, cottoning on.

“Wutai,” Genesis agreed. “And now, whatever was in his -- product --” he sneered, jerking his chin toward Sephiroth, who looked acutely if briefly uncomfortable, “will allow some of our suppressed mutations to come to the fore. It’s just a matter of time.”

“So... like a wing,” Angeal said, swallowing. The meeting had been more geared toward... well, geared toward Hojo explaining that he’d fixed everything, and, contradictorily, that anything he hadn’t fixed was because Hollander had messed it up too badly to be fixed.

“Like a wing, yes. Or -- scales, or blindness, or -- do you even know what’s in our genetic makeup? No, of course you don’t, no, I --” Genesis snapped to his feet, flinching but ignoring it, and dug for his PHS. “You’ll love this. It’s the short list --”

Angeal took it against his better judgement, and flicked open the document that had been saved to the device. There looked like there was a backup on the server, but no doubt Genesis also had it in hard copy somewhere. He read.

And read.

And _read_.

There were monsters he’d never even heard of listed there. As part of him. Slowly, he sat down too.

“Stilva have copper-based blood,” Genesis said quietly. “Hemocyanins, a type of protein, according to Hollander -- if we start to express a mutation like that...” He shook his head. “There’s a great many things like that in that file. Things that can’t... coexist with our physiology. Degradation would kill us for sure, of course, but...”

The list on Sephiroth was, if anything, even longer -- although it was also a lot less exotic in some ways. Angeal almost laughed to learn that there was a chunk of something feline in Sephiroth’s blood. Of course there was.

“There’s no guarantee this won’t kill us too.”

There was a creak as Sephiroth moved, edging further toward the door. “Stay,” said Genesis, sharp with a shaky voice.

Sephiroth hesitated for a moment, but in the end he stayed. It was rare that Genesis would ask.

He leaned on the back of the couch, peering over the heads of the other two, while they examined the information on Genesis’s PHS screen together.

“Who knows,” sighed Genesis eventually, “maybe we’ll just gain the ability to breathe fire and not die horribly.”

“It would have been nice,” said Angeal mildly, “if they’d mentioned any of this before injecting me with their cure.”

“Hojo’s cure was about ninety percent Sephiroth’s --”

“Yes, we know, Genesis,” interrupted Sephiroth loudly.

“Well that’s... something.” Angeal rubbed his forehead. He decided against mentioning that Genesis had certainly had more than a few millilitres of that in him before. It really wasn’t the same situation. “Can you even inject... that?”

“He said it would be better that way.” Genesis shrugged. Then he grunted, shifted uncomfortably--

“Show me,” sighed Angeal.

“It’s really not --”

“Genesis,” he levelled a very disappointed look in his direction. “Show me.”

Genesis sighed and shrugged out of his coat. Beneath it, there was already heavy staining on the lining and upon his thin shirt. Under that...

The bandages didn’t really hide the malformed protrusion of something from his left shoulder blade. The space they covered seemed to form an area at least as broad as the ball of his shoulder, and it looked... strange. Awkward. Genesis’s skin was almost as familiar to Angeal as it was to Genesis, and he had to resist the urge to reach out and touch the strange shape beneath the bandaging.

Instead he laid his palm over the blade of the other shoulder. The muscles beneath were tense and knotted, but lean and strong and and warm.

“It doesn’t look like a clean cut,” he managed finally.

Genesis didn’t say anything. Angeal rubbed his thumb gently across his skin. His ears could pick up the soft scrape of calluses in the silence.

“It wasn’t,” Sephiroth interjected. “He pulled it off.”

Angeal twitched. “Pulled-- Genesis, _why_?”

“I was sick of looking at it,” said Genesis flatly. “It wouldn’t go away anymore once they injected me with the ‘cure’.”

“Midgar has competent doctors and surgeons from all walks of life, Genesis, there was no need to do it like that. You could have had it removed...”

“Hollander was very eager to help,” said Genesis darkly.

Angeal sighed. “It’s a big wound.”

“It will heal. The infirmary staff estimated a fortnight, now that I’m healing properly again.” He shrugged his coat back on, and when he hesitated to lift his left arm, Angeal reached forward and tried to help him pull the coat over.

Genesis slapped his hand away. “I can do it.”

“All right.”

Sometimes it was just best -- or at least quietest -- to let Genesis have his way.

“So,” said Genesis, in a voice that was both flat and hard, “how was Wutai?”

 

* * *

 

It was hard to adapt to the idea that they could change, permanently, scarily, at any given moment.

Hojo wrote a report for Lazard, condescending to explain the consequences of degradation only because the President had insisted. Lazard, bless his marginally more sensible soul, provided copies immediately to Genesis and Angeal, and kept the rest of it encrypted.

Angeal was to be sent immediately back to work, because unlike Genesis he was fit for it -- and not walking around with a giant hole in his shoulder -- but also because there was some evidence that the activities they engaged in might exert some control over the expression of their mutations.

“ _Flimsy_ evidence,” Angeal reminded Genesis, who was seething. The helicopter was waiting for them atop the building, rotors spinning noisily in the air with a _whump whump_ that was painful on enhanced ears.

“If you get to breathe fire,” Genesis threatened, trailing off meaningfully, even as he stalked gingerly after Angeal.

“I don’t think that’s very likely.” Angeal rolled his eyes.

He clapped Genesis on the shoulder -- his right shoulder -- gently. “Take care of yourself, won’t you?”

Genesis gave him a tired look, and Angeal smiled. “See you in a couple weeks -- then you can meet my student. You’ll like him.”

From Sephiroth’s commentary, Genesis doubted that he’d enjoy meeting Zack Fair very much, but he did let Angeal go. He watched the helicopter take off, shielding his face with one arm as the rotors whipped up the air. His sharp eyes caught it when Angeal tapped the window with one knuckle, a last goodbye.

Flimsy evidence was better than no evidence, and at least gave Genesis the illusion of control over the issue.

He was persuasive enough, and Sephiroth disliked paperwork and PR stunts enough, that he could get Sephiroth into the training rooms at least once a day. He was only allowed light sparring yet - very nearly just progressions with a partner - but it was better than nothing and it stopped him feeling quite so restless.

...except the issue with making Sephiroth come and spar with him was that Sephiroth also decided when he’d had too much. Which, in hindsight, was probably the reason he’d agreed so easily. Sneaky.

Unfortunately, he also usually timed it perfectly to Genesis‘s recovering body. He was always sweaty, aching and exhausted by the time Sephiroth clumsily mother-henned him out of the VR or training room. And then inevitably Genesis found himself marched implacably back to his apartment to bathe and sleep it off.

“If I start expressing genetic mutations from a sloth or something, I will blame you. And I will set you on fire.”

“There is no sloth in your genetic makeup,” Sephiroth responded coolly, “and if such an event should come to pass...” His mouth quirked, just a little, “you would still need to catch me.”

“I will,” Genesis promised.

“I look forward to it.”

Recovering from degradation as well as serious injury wasn’t a linear process, either. Some days were almost normal; others exhausted him beyond measure. Genesis hated it fiercely, but ... Well, there were worse things than having a lover willing to skip out on important meetings just to take care of him.

Not that he’d admit it.

“I am not an invalid,” he explained patiently, for the fifth time that day, and he really, truly was not this time. It had been actual weeks and he was fine.

“No,” agreed Sephiroth, hustling him effortlessly over the threshold, “but you did fall asleep in the bath last week.”

Last fortnight, actually. Genesis wanted to correct him, but on the other hand, correcting would mean admitting, and -- “I was _fine_."

“You let the water get cold. You were freezing,” Sephiroth corrected, boxing him in even as he herded him toward the bathroom. There was nowhere to go except forward, through the wall, or through Sephiroth; Genesis would probably be more successful with the wall, except that then he’d have to have his apartment fixed. Again.

He scowled at Sephiroth, but allowed himself to be pushed, prodded and persuaded toward the damn bath tub.

The only really good reason for allowing the indignity of bathing under supervision was getting Sephiroth’s large, strong hands all over him. These past weeks he'd touched him like he was compelled, reverent, and with lingering, firm touches and the soft scrape of nails. He had appallingly nice hands, too, long-fingered, quick and dexterous.

Better still, it was as if the man couldn’t help himself, like clockwork or sunrise: Genesis got naked, Sephiroth reached out to touch.

Half the time Genesis wasn’t even sure Sephiroth was aware of it. He had to have known that if Genesis was capable of light sparring he was more than okay to be taking his own clothes off. He certainly didn't _need_  Sephiroth washing his back... although the slippery soap and the water's heat combined with the easy strength of Sephiroth's hands made him feel a little like his spine was melting.

Gensis protested the supervision. He protested the kid gloves, and he definitely protested how Sephiroth insisted on stretching his left arm out, rubbing at the still-recovering muscle in Genesis's shoulder, pressing carefully on all the tender spots under his new-healed skin and pestering him daily with a litany of questions about that stupid malformed joint.

But he did not protest when, after all that, Sephiroth would sink down next to his bath tub, gloves off, hands wet and eyes warm, and trail his hands over every bit of skin he could reach.

Like. There were _some_  perks, okay? And admittedly there was something sort of... nice, he supposed, flattering and luxurious, in seeing so much shy affection in Sephiroth's too-perfect face. It was occasionally pretty okay to be, well, worried about.

Especially when he was actually recovering. Just because he wouldn't admit it to Sephiroth didn't mean he was oblivious. He had been feeling the aches and hesitation in his own body for weeks. He'd noticed the weakness on his left side, the struggling muscles there.

It wasn't the worst thing.

But his temper frayed as he recovered. Concern was sweet and flattering...

...right up until it prevented Genesis getting fucked. He had to draw the line somewhere.

It had been actual weeks since he'd had his "cure" and torn his wing off, and he was -- well, maybe he still tired more easily, occasionally, but he was hardly fragile. The sex would have to be pretty fucking rough to actually do him any damage.

Happily, Genesis considered himself to be at his most persuasive when he was naked. Taking all his clothes off was a time-tested solution to all sorts of problems with Sephiroth or Angeal. He'd never had a problem featuring not getting fucked before but he was really very confident that stripping naked would be an effective tactic here, too.

Instead of getting into the steaming water this time, Genesis peeled his clothing off and leaned into Sephiroth's bulk. He smelled of something faintly chemical -- and, amusingly, hair. There was definitely a distinct smell of clean sweat trapped in all that hair, something warm and appealing in the breath he inhaled against the skin of his throat.

Sephiroth made a short, questioning noise, and rested one hand on Genesis's naked hip.

"So are you ever going to get in here with me?" Genesis asked bluntly. "I could ride your cock." He slid his fingers down Sephiroth's belly, trailing just beneath the thick protective belts. He felt Sephiroth's muscles twitch in response.

Genesis was thinking about it now, the dull burning strain in his thighs, Sephiroth's big hands on his lower back. All that was missing was Angeal, really, but they were often not in the same places at once. The tub wasn't quite big enough for three anyway. Even with two they'd get water everywhere, but it'd be fun.

Sephiroth hesitated. Actually _hesitated._

"No?" Genesis eyed him. Were it Angeal, Genesis would tell him things, stupid flattering things: that he wanted to feel strained and aching and stretched out around his cock, that he wanted to cling to his broad shoulders, that he wanted to be shoved around just enough to revel in the enormous, solid strength of him; to feel the pulse thump in his throat, dig his nails in, finish up aching and exhausted, panting and so, _so_ satisfied --

Sephiroth was not Angeal. He had none of that strange thread of prudish self consciousness, and he responded to that sort of praise with completely insufferable smugness, all the more annoying for how subtle it was on him.

No. With Sephiroth, Genesis had to be patient. He had to tease out the strange complexities of him.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Sephiroth said cautiously, even as his eyes strayed from Genesis's to his mouth, down, down... It was an appreciative look, a little proprietary.

If he 'wasn't sure', then he had no business staring hungrily at Genesis's dick like that.

Genesis twitched. His temper moved off at a low simmer. "I've been injured hundreds of times before, Sephiroth. Don't look down upon me," he said in a low, ominous voice.

"I'm not," Sephiroth said immediately, because anyone could read that tone. "It's not because of that."

Genesis tipped his head back, raised his chin, eyes narrowed. "Yes?"

"...The degradation."

Sephiroth, as usual, was completely terrible at explaining whatever the problem he was having was. But keywords were helpful, at least, and Genesis felt the anger drain slowly.

Degradation had been almost beyond frightening -- he'd come out the other side of fear and been edging toward actual madness, his thoughts becoming unstable at the same rate as his cell production. With Angeal packed off to Wutai with his 'puppy'...

Sephiroth was probably the only person who'd been left watching, confused and isolated.

There was a part of Genesis that wanted to scoff -- Sephiroth had nothing to worry about. Sephiroth was the perfect specimen, the success; never destined to be a failure from birth. He was healthy. And he thought it had bothered _him_?

That was, of course, unfair. Genesis and Angeal were the only real bonds Sephiroth had. Little wonder the thought of losing them both had made him so cautious. Anxious, almost.

Ugh. He couldn't even stay _that_ mad about it.

"It's okay now," he pointed out, rubbing his face on Sephiroth's jaw. He smelled good. Genesis _wanted_ him, and he was going to be incredibly pissed off if Sephiroth's anxiety about Genesis's health stopped him from having him.

"I know that," Sephiroth said slowly, and tapped the side of his head with one finger. "Here."

Genesis grunted an acknowledgement because, yes, he knew the feeling. He was impatient, though, and changed tactics. "If you don't want to fuck, that's fine. But don't make decisions about what's okay for me. I know what's okay for me."

Sephiroth looked like he wasn't entirely sure about that. "You pulled your own limb off."

Genesis's jaws clenched tightly. Right. He took a deep breath and drew away. "You know exactly why I did that. And now, I'm pretty sure I can bathe alo--"

Sephiroth cut him off with a kiss, and Genesis smacked him on the chest and bit his tongue cruelly. "Don't kiss me to shut me up!"

"I thought you wanted to fuck," Sephiroth pointed out with an amused curl of his mouth.

"Oh, just... shut up," muttered Genesis. He leaned back in, though, and he was perfectly happy to suck the tiny taint of mako-rich blood from Sephiroth's mouth.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop me a comment if there was something in particular you liked.


	2. Not The Worst Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex. Mutations. And... more sex! And then some more sex.

Genesis wasted no time: he tangled his hands in his hair and crushed it between his fingers, pulling Sephiroth closer. He brought one hand up to his skull, silvery hair trailing silkily through his grasp, and rubbed his thumb around the edge of his jaw. He breathed deeply through his nose, chest expanding.

He sucked on his tongue and nipped gently at his mouth and purred even as he pressed closer.

"Come on. Touch me," he ordered, a demand with which Sephiroth seemed pleased to comply. He'd buried one hand in Genesis's hair and ended up tugging the other glove off with his teeth. Genesis snorted in amusement, took it from his mouth and threw it somewhere, even as that newly bared hand slid enticingly down Genesis's spine, over the small of his back, down to grope his butt. Sephiroth's fingers kneaded, stretched and pressed down into the muscle and Genesis purred into his mouth.

"Oh yes," he crooned, and he wasn't even embarrassed about how needy that sounded. He'd had no idea how much he'd wanted this until he looked like getting it. Sephiroth was right there and he wanted to _climb him_. "Come on, come on, come on," he hissed against Sephiroth's mouth, and began tearing at his clothes.

He got the belt around his middle undone and let it drop, then shoved Sephiroth back until his spine hit the wall and kissed him again, deep and hard and messy. Sephiroth grunted and kissed back just long enough to distract him - and then he kicked Genesis's heel out from under him, clenched his grip on Genesis's hips, and spun them to slam him back against the wall.

One of the tiles cracked.

Their eyes met, gazes hot. Genesis stared at him for a second, feeling wild and hot and hypersensitive. "Yes," he gasped, and pulled at Sephiroth's hair, somehow trying to urge him closer, even though he knew that if they got any closer they'd probably _fuse_.

They could not get Sephiroth naked fast enough, and then when they had they couldn't slick up his cock fast enough, couldn't stretch out Genesis's asshole swiftly enough -

"If you hadn't had some kind of anxious crisis of _stupidity_ for weeks," Genesis snarled, "It woudn't be so difficult to fit now." Then he smacked Sephiroth's hands away. "Let me do it."

It was easier to stretch out the tight ring of muscle himself anyway. Genesis was flexible enough and he had a better assessment of how ready he was, which meant _faster_. They could do long slow fingering some other time, some time when he didn't want Sephiroth's dick inside him like five minutes ago.

"You're impatient," said Sephiroth, although Genesis noticed that he wasn't exactly stopping Genesis from carefully - if quickly - stretching himself.

"Fine. I'm fine, we're ready - hurry up and -" he broke off on a grunt because Sephiroth had taken him at his word, but more than that - he'd gripped him around the thighs and hoisted him effortlessly up and he wasn't straining at all, not even a little - " _yes_ ," Genesis hissed.

His back hit the wall again. He hooked his knee around Sephiroth's waist, dug his nails into his shoulders and pulled him close, curved his spine to let him get the angle right. He closed his eyes at feeling - _finally_ \- the head of Sephiroth's dick rubbing against him.

Sephiroth finally shoved his cock inside. It didn't go in easily, but it stretched and dragged at Genesis's insides - it didn't hurt like tearing, which was about all he cared about. He rolled his head back against the hard tiles. "Mmmn."

"Yes?" Sephiroth got out, voice low and hoarse somewhere near his neck.

"Hurry _up_ ," he snapped. "I'm not made of glass."

There was something to be said for Sephiroth groaning hot nothings against his throat, mumbling his name and gasping in the humidity and steam. He drew back his hips and every thrust back in made Genesis feel like fireworks were going off up his spine, like a bright shock of pleasure and satisfaction with every movement. He threw his body into the movement, gripping hard with his thighs.

Once he put his mind to something he did it with his whole person, fully, focused and committed; Sephiroth fucked like it was a solemn duty laid upon him and he was determined to see it discharged to as high a standard as he could. A shift in weight meant that Genesis's cock was rubbing between them, hard and leaking pre-ejaculate.

"Gaia, _yes_ ," Genesis moaned, clenching around him, and Sephiroth made a low and sweet noise in response.

They broke more than one of those tiles.

Genesis would get them replaced.

Well. Eventually.

Orgasm came on hard and _so_ suddenly. It hit Genesis in a rush of heat that rolled through him, his nerves springing to life in a wash of hypersensitivity, of warmth and light and shockingly intense pleasure. He felt muscles low in his gut contract, hard, sharp, and it just made the sensation of Sephiroth's cock deep inside him that much stronger.

"Ohh." _Shit_. His muscles wouldn't pay him any mind, and he couldn't stop the sudden clinging tension in them. He tipped his head back, dragged Sephiroth closer by the hair, unable to quell the instinct until he could feel Sephiroth's damp breath on his collarbone. He let his eyes flutter shut, just for a second, just –

Bliss. He felt all his muscles contract again and shuddered through it with a long, throaty moan. "Aahhh…ah..!" He couldn't focus his vision. His fingers shook. He breathed out, suddenly exhausted, and inhaled hard, chest heaving.

Oh. Okay.

"You liked that."

He fluttered his eyes back open just enough to see Sephiroth looking at him – if he hadn't felt so blissfully, brain-fryingly good he'd have punched that smug half-smile from Sephiroth's face. But Sephiroth didn't just look smug: he looked delighted, looked proud of himself. There was something darkly satisfied behind his eyes.

Genesis exhaled again. He grunted, squirming a little and – ah. Oh. Oh that was good. His whole body gave another hard, slow pulse; a dull throb of heat and shivering pleasure and his knees unhinged completely. He swore, staggered and clung for a second to Sephiroth's big shoulders.

"…you liked that very much," Sephiroth realised, sounding oddly awed.

Genesis opened his mouth to say something pithy and probably quite mean, but all he got out was a broken noise of blind pleasure. "Shi-it," he added after a second, still panting, and just when he made it back to his feet under his own power he felt that low, throbbing clench again. His dick twitched, even though there was no way in hell he was getting it up for at least a couple of minutes, and his knees gave out completely.

Sephiroth caught him.

"Genesis?"

"Ffffuck," mumbled Genesis. The lights were dancing overhead, lighting Sephiroth's hair from behind like a silvery halo. "'Mm okay," he said, blinking stupidly.

"I really don't think you are," Sephiroth said slowly. There was movement, quick and certain, Sephiroth carrying him effortlessly.

His body gave another shudder, nerves singing, muscles clenching. Genesis's throat made a soft happy sigh, entirely bypassing his brain's permission.

"I'm fine," he insisted distantly, although he hadn't the foggiest idea when he'd ended up on Sephiroth's bed. And – oh god. Oh, _god_. He arched shamelessly. He could hear the combination of shock and satisfaction in his own voice but –

It didn't _stop_.

He came to in Shinra's infirmary, staring at an IV in his arm. His face was stuck to the pillow, and from the feel of everything they must have had him on the good drugs. It took a lot to put a SOLDIER anywhere close to under, and he felt distinctly fuzzy.

…except that usually if he was injured that badly, he'd wake up in the labs, not the infirmary, and…

Was that Hojo? That snide voice was so familiar. What was he doing in the infirmary? Where…?

Sephiroth's hair caught the light, shiny and silver enough to catch his eye even in the fuzziness of his haze. Genesis tried sitting up and found that he moved like he was pretty drunk: loose, fluid, not very coordinated. Nothing hurt, though. No lingering aches of healing – even the dull thump of his pulse in his shoulder where he'd torn out the wing was, at best, a distant reminder. Whatever painkillers they were testing out were _good._

"– simply a mutation, as you had been cautioned," Hojo was explaining in the condescending tone that Sephiroth would only put up with from him.

"What?" said Genesis, blinking at the bright lights.

Sephiroth moved immediately, turning toward the bed where he was laid. He revealed Professor Hojo's much shorter person behind him as he did so, although Hojo had already gotten bored with whatever mystery Genesis represented. He sniffed once and turned away, evidently eager to get back to his own laboratory.

"You're awake," said Sephiroth, sounding… relieved. Surprisingly so. "Angeal just about had a fit. I'm sure he'll –"

The door banged open at that moment, spitting Angeal into the room. Behind him was the shape of his own student, whose name was probably not actually puppy, who loitered in the doorway awkwardly for a few seconds before closing the door on them and taking up a post outside.

Then it was just the three of them in the room.

Angeal crossed his arms, making his biceps bulge out in a way that made Genesis's eyes linger. "What happened?"

Genesis's last memory was of having sex - actually very good sex - up against the wall in the bathroom. He frowned thoughtfully. "I don't know," he admitted. Then, unconcerned: "What's in the IV? Whatever it is, it's a lot better than the stuff they usually use for SOLDIERs."

Sephiroth peered at the labelling. "…Saline," he said, and then double-checked the notes he was holding as though they'd reveal something new. They didn't seem to. "Just saline. For hydration."

Genesis frowned. He certainly felt like he was on the good drugs. Not fuzzy-headed anymore now that sleep had fallen away from him, but riding high, painless, soft focus. There was something undeniably pleasant about it. He felt like a cat in sunshine, ready to stretch out and purr and then curl up and return to sleep.

Sephiroth didn't outwardly betray very much discomfort, but he did shift his weight slightly. "Hojo is convinced this is the manifestation of a mutation," he said, which made Genesis frown.

"What, I'm going to lose consciousness at random?" Genesis asked, exasperated.

"It's not random," said Sephiroth. "It's a trait received from the dragon genetics. The species has, on average, thirty minute orgasms."

Genesis blinked slowly.

Angeal was flushing dramatically across his cheeks, although his expression was determinedly fixed in an impassive sort of grimace.

Sephiroth went on, clinical and uninflected, as though nothing could stall his report. "There is an evolutionary basis – it's supposed to keep the female still long enough for the male to impregnate her so she doesn't eat him. All possible permutations of physical sex among the species experience long and… intense… orgasms as a result."

"…Oh," said Genesis. "So I…" he paused.

"Hojo said that humans were not designed to sustain that kind of activity for as long as a dragon."

"Are you saying he had a thirty minute orgasm and lost consciousness?" Angeal said slowly.

"It was more like fifteen," Sephiroth admitted.

Angeal looked like he wasn't sure what to do with this information. To be fair, Genesis wasn't sure either.

"There was a nurse through earlier who said that you would need to… remain adequately hydrated and not stand up too fast, but that there is no particular danger associated with the condition for somebody in your state of fitness."

"Oh," said Genesis again.

"That wasn't what I expected when I was warned of mutations," Angeal admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Although it does support Hojo's hypothesis."

"What?"

"That activities you engage in more frequently will exert some control over the expression of mutations," he reminded them.

There was a pause.

"We… we do have a lot of sex," Genesis admitted, frowning thoughtfully.

"It's not the worst possible outcome," Sephiroth said cautiously.

Genesis snorted.

* * *

 He got used to it – which is to say that Genesis's days of unplanned, spontaneous sex slotted into his schedule were over. Quickies weren't quick if he was stumbling into meetings ten minutes late and still coming. Even if he could be quiet and avoid the restless arching and fluttering eyes, he couldn't control his breathing for that long and there was absolutely no chance he'd be able to conceal the photosensitivity, the lack of coordination or how strangely persuadable he became.

There was nothing for it, really. Orgasm became less satisfying and stress relieving and more… well, kind of debilitating, actually. He could barely form sentences for at least twenty minutes, still fainted if he moved too fast sometimes, and would generally let anybody do anything to him.

Which, as Sephiroth pointed out, was exactly what that particular adaptation had been selected for.

(The reminder that his body thought he was a dragon that needed to be held still and drugged to the gills to be impregnated was not actually a turn on. Although Sephiroth did eventually start talking to him again, once his hair stopped smelling like burning.)

On the other hand…

On the other hand, Genesis discovered that he really, _really_ liked being held down and fucked right through an orgasm. Angeal would press his face into the mattress, irresistibly strong with a heavy hand on his skull. Then Genesis would have to focus on breathing through the pressure, focus on struggling backward despite the pressure, while Angeal shoved his dick inside him, rubbing the head of it over every deep, sensitive spot while he moaned brokenly into the sheets.

He didn't really walk away from sex anymore. Hobbled, really, was more what he did. It was _great_.

The other thing to get used to was how very much Sephiroth liked to watch him. Objectively, Genesis got it: he was hot, and watching him arch and writhe and gasp for breath while he was coming was _absolutely_ hot. Yeah, he got that. But sometimes Sephiroth would just - pause, and look at him, and Genesis couldn't even focus clearly enough to analyse that expression.

"You like watching me come," Genesis said finally. He could probably have chosen a better place to say it than midday at work while they were heavily armoured and on their way to a briefing with Lazard.

Sephiroth looked sideways at him and remained silent.

" _Genesis_ ," hissed Angeal.

"Everybody on this floor has enhanced hearing," Sephiroth reminded them.

"My apartment's soundproofed, but it's not _that_ soundproofed," Genesis pointed out.

Angeal's face went red.

Genesis watched curiously. Nobody could pull off a poker face like Sephiroth, but Angeal blushed even when his expression didn't change. It was great.

"Fine."

They went to work.

That evening, Genesis backed Angeal playfully toward that comfortable couch in his apartment's living space and gently pushed him down upon it. He dropped to his knees and insinuated himself between Angeal's thighs to give him exactly the kind of hot, messy blowjob he liked: slick with drool and precome, teeth covered, _deep_.

His jaw started to ache within about a minute, and he almost choked himself by drawing his cock as far as he could down his throat and swallowing, hard. He didn't even complain when Angeal's frantic fingers pulled his hair too hard.

It was worth it for the sounds he made: shocked bitten-off noises, breathless gasps. He said Genesis's name over and over, increasingly urgent, and when he came it was with a low, satisfied groan that made Genesis shiver.

"What did I do to deserve _that_?" he muttered breathlessly, although not as though he was complaining.

"Nothing." Genesis crawled up, braced himself over Angeal's loosely spread legs, and kissed him deeply, sharing the remains of the semen in his mouth. He got a surprised noise, and then Angeal responded eagerly.

When Genesis drew away, he did it so there was still saliva clinging to his mouth, licked Angeal's bottom lip with his tongue, and settled smugly back upon his knees. Angeal's big hands braced his back. He wouldn't let him fall.

Genesis examined Angeal critically and concluded that he was quite satisfied with his glassy-eyed expression and flushed face.

He nodded to himself. Then he brought up one hand to run his fingers over his own mouth. Angeal's cock was really too big to blow easily, which was why he didn't do it often, and he must have been a sight. Deepthroating always did it: teary eyes, reddened skin, swollen mouth. His hair was probably a wreck from Angeal's shameless pulling on it, too.

He licked his lips and turned to Sephiroth.

"Enjoy the show?" he asked, raising one challenging eyebrow.

Angeal groaned and buried his face in Genesis's shoulder, mumbling something that sounded a lot like 'should have known'.

Genesis patted his head and left him there. His body was hypersensitive, heart speeding and nerves reaching blindly for any sensation, and the hot damp feeling of Angeal's breath on his skin made him shiver. He only barely circumvented the urge to clutch his head closer and rock his hips into that big, thick-muscled body.

"Perhaps," Sephiroth agreed.

"Yeah, you're really mysterious," Genesis sneered, looking pointedly toward the distinct bulge in his pants.

Sephiroth shook his head. He wasn't smiling, but there was a distinctly pleased light in his eyes.

He swept closer, losing his coat and pauldrons as he went, and came to stand behind Genesis, so he was sandwiched between Angeal's relaxed body and the line of heat from Sephiroth's closeness with his legs flung out over Angeal's.

Sephiroth put his hands on Genesis's shoulders from behind, and Angeal lifted his forehead from where it rested there to see.

Sephiroth dragged one hand down Genesis's neck, over his throat. Genesis tipped his head back and bared it completely, humming at the sensation of nails scraping, just hard enough to leave red lines that healed too quickly.

It was almost a shame when his hand kept going over his collarbone and down his chest, one nail clipping a nipple so he twitched. "You look good," Sephiroth admitted quietly, sliding down as his hand reached Genesis's thick belt.

"Yes," Genesis agreed, tipping his head back. Angeal leaned into the space created there and bit gently at his pulse. "Ah," said Genesis.

"He means when you're coming."

"Of course. Then, too."

There was a soft huff of laughter, a warm breath down Genesis's front. Angeal bit a little harder in retribution, not quite hard enough to leave a mark. Unsurprisingly Genesis remained uncowed.

Sephiroth ran his fingers lightly and carefully over the front of Genesis's trousers. He could barely feel it, but what he could feel made him shift restlessly, hips hitching, aching for more sensation.

Angeal's hands tightened on his waist.

"Come on," said Angeal, looking over Genesis's shoulder at Sephiroth, "let's get you to bed."

Angeal picked Genesis up by the expedient method of just standing, and kicked his way out of his pooled trousers when he took the first steps away from the couch and toward the bedroom. Sephiroth scooped up a tube of lubricant as they went.

Genesis wrapped his thighs around Angeal's waist - paused for a second at the extremely satisfying feeling of rubbing his stiff cock against the solid muscle there - and allowed himself to be moved. He was rewarded amply for this forbearance because Angeal drew him closer, wrapping his arms around him and letting him feel every solid inch of him - and also the coiled brutal strength in his arms and shoulders.

He found himself tossed casually onto Angeal's bed, without any warning effort from his muscles, and the pleased way Angeal peered down at him let him know that Genesis's appreciation of that easy overwhelming strength wasn't lost on him, either.

"Do you want me to hold you down while Sephiroth fucks you?" he asked, low and rumbling.

Genesis's brain went kind of blank for a few seconds, but his entire body felt like it had lit up: a frisson of heat and want and aching _yes yes yes_ and -

"Yeah," he got out. "Let's do that."

Between them, it took them about ten minutes to make him scream, and from then it was just the dizzying pressure of Angeal forcing him down and the slick slide of Sephiroth's dick inside him and the unsteady throbbing of one long, _long_ orgasm.

He clung to Angeal's arms, long fingers bruising, and his hips rocked into Sephiroth's grip and there was nothing but the white heat lighting up his nerves. He rolled his head back against the sheets, moaning loudly, and Sephiroth just shoved in again, and again, and with each movement he felt another shudder of actual ecstasy roll through him and -

"Harder," he said in a cracking voice. Angeal seemed to take that as a cue to tighten his grip, bring more of his weight to bear against Genesis's body, and that was probably lucky, because the next thrust Sephiroth gave was hard enough to slam the headboard into the wall and make him wail.

Sweat messed his hair up and stung his skin where Sephiroth had left scratches, and he _knew_ they were staring at him, both of them, even though Angeal was still shoving him down and Sephiroth's hips were still moving to shove his dick in, fingers still clenched painfully into Genesis's thigh. The passage of time definitely occurred, but Genesis didn't really notice it.

He felt Sephiroth come, felt the unsteady changes in his movements and he was sensitive enough that he could even feel the heat of his semen spilling inside him. Sephiroth came and Genesis moaned helplessly, clinging harder to Angeal's arms.

Somebody swore.

Sephiroth pulling out made him jerk and twist just a little, and then it was every couple of seconds that Genesis's guts clenched, almost painful with how intense the sensation was, and then that deep heady bliss swept through him again.

He knew better now than to try to stop it or get up or - really do anything. He stared at nothing and let his eyes flutter closed at the next irresistible wave of bone-weakening pleasure that washed over him.

He felt Sephiroth's fingers trail along the underside of his hypersensitive cock and twitched, but they didn't linger. Instead they worked their way up, and Sephiroth laid a kiss on his belly.

"You're vulnerable like this," Sephiroth told him in a low, rough voice, fingers finally making it all the way to his neck.

Genesis just arched blindly into the touch. His brain was swimming. He couldn't have thought through the statement even if he'd wanted to, although the words registered. In another few minutes his muscles started to tremble, and his moans and groans turned sweet and soft and exhausted. Then he was laying in a boneless heap stuck between Sephiroth and Angeal, and every few seconds he would shudder, hard, and mumble and swear and sigh.

They spoke quietly over him, both warm and sated but still very present, and he knew that if he could muster the willpower to concentrate he'd be able to understand what they were saying - even if he'd be seriously impeded from actually engaging.

When Angeal loosed his grip Sephiroth curled up around him, a thing of muscle, warmth, soft skin and the slide of silky hair.

"You know," he said curiously to Angeal, curled around Genesis's shaking body and rubbing his hip soothingly, which was _not actually at all soothing_ , and Genesis arched and twitched at the idle touch, "some SOLDIERs do manage multiple orgasms."

The phrase _multiple orgasms_ caught Genesis's attention even in the hazy midst of shuddering heat, and he buried his face in Angeal's chest and let out a long, ragged moan. His arms clenched involuntarily for a second. _Nope_ , Genesis thought, even as his body responded to the idea with another melting flood of hot bliss, _you'll kill me._

Angeal's eyebrows rose slowly, although at no point had he taken his gaze from Genesis. "Really," he said, watching Genesis with hungry eyes.

"Yes," said Sephiroth.

Genesis managed almost enough coordination to hit him. Sephiroth caught his hand and sucked on his fingers. He sucked hard, laving the tips with his tongue. He laughed softly when Genesis made a strangled noise.

It was nearly twenty minutes before he was drifting into a distinctly altered state of consciousness: lights out, nobody home, breathing heavily and staring and occasionally making a weak soft grunting noise, and then another ten before he finally lifted his head and blinked stupidly at them.

"Hi," said Angeal, smiling.

Genesis groaned and buried his face in the crook of Angeal's elbow.

"Feeling okay?"

"Mmmnngh. Your cock is some kind of cosmic gift I've been given to make up for putting up with so much rubbish," Genesis informed Angeal in response, a little loopily.

"I… see," said Angeal. "That was actually Sephiroth's cock," he reminded him.

"Don't care. And you," he added in a very different tone to Sephiroth, " _no_."

Sephiroth looked more amused than cowed, but it was Angeal's hands that crept down Genesis's lean-muscled body. They moved slowly, but inexorably, big and heavy and _hnnggggh_.

Genesis whined, but he didn't try to stop him, either.

* * *

 

"Sick?" Lazard asked, brows furrowing. "It's not degradation-?"

"No, no," soothed Angeal, "he's just, um. Mostly he's just tired."

"Tired," Lazard repeated, and from his expression it was clear that he knew exactly how tired Genesis would have to be in order to admit to it. "But not sick?"

"No." Angeal hesitated. "He was taken to the infirmary with a new mutation not long ago," he hedged.

"I see. He hasn't released the records of that examination to me, and Hojo said it was largely irrelevant."

"It is. He over... worked... it?" Angeal glanced at Sephiroth.

There was a pause while they both considered the word _overworked_. When they'd left Genesis was still basically melted, fused in a boneless heap to the sheets. Angeal was concerned enough that he'd be checking on him as soon as they were out of this briefing. Maybe if they had to go somewhere he could ask Zack to check on him...

"Like a training accident?" Lazard was not stupid enough to think they weren't hiding _something_ , but it was evident that he was looking for an answer he could pass on to anybody else who asked.

"Yes. A training accident. He's fine, but tired," Angeal nodded, happy to be back on solid ground again.

"I see."

"Very tired," murmured Sephiroth.

So Angeal kicked him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See something you liked? Drop me a comment and let me know. ;)


	3. Actually A Lot Closer To The Worst Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genesis is "sick" and Zack wants whatever the hell he's got. Angeal's mutation shows up, and it's nowhere near as fun as Genesis's. Sephiroth is protective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to have preserved the element of surprise here but honestly you probably deserve this warning: Angeal's mutation basically renders his penis unusable with another person's bare skin - and they have to work around that. If that's gonna squick you, drop out now. I won't be offended, but please note that you _have_ been warned. ;)

Genesis woke up to a thunderous knocking upon Angeal's door.

He squinted at the clock. Hm. Midday.

There was a handwritten note stuck to the pillow next to his head that read only:

_We will tell Lazard you're sick - S_

Genesis scowled. High-handed bastard.

Then he tried to get up and nearly fell over, only saving himself by sagging against the bedside table. Grudgingly, he allowed that maybe he wouldn't have been very useful on duty today. It wasn't Sephiroth's decision, but he couldn't seem to muster the ire to remain mad about it: instead he just wanted to sink back to the sheets and stay still.

There was still that person at the door, though.

He put more weight on his feet. He _could_ move, if he wanted to, although his limbs were loose and his muscles felt like they'd never tense up properly again. He felt kind of drunk, actually, or perhaps like he'd been given a strong opiate. Something that made everything painless and relaxed and good, but also made him a bit stupid.

He made it to a pair of pants - Angeal's, thankfully, because Sephiroth's were basically Sephiroth-shaped only - and stepped into them before carefully making his way to the door.

He opened it to a SOLDIER Second who was clutching a PHS and looking increasingly concerned.

"Can I help you," he said. It didn't hurt to say it, but his voice came out like he'd been eating glass. Genesis reached up and touched his throat uncertainly.

The Second looked - relieved, somehow - to see him, and took a deep breath to speak. And then he stopped. His eyes were kind of wide. He inhaled again.

"Um," he said, instead of whatever he was going to say.

Genesis eyed him. "Is this some kind of emergency?"

The Second shook his head. "I'm just meant to ask," he glanced back at his PHS, "...if you're all... right? Although you sure don't seem like you need any help," he added in a mutter.

It took Genesis a few moments, and then he rolled his eyes and grabbed the PHS out of the kid's hands.

"Hey!"

TO: ZFAIR @ shinra.corp

_Zack, I've got a mission out near Corel and Sephiroth's being shipped back to Wutai. Would you mind checking on a friend of mine? He's sleeping in my apartment._

TO: AHEWLEY @ shinra.corp

_Yeah, sure, I'll go now. Don't worry, I'll make sure your friend's okay! What's wrong with him? Do I need to check anything specific? :)_

TO: ZFAIR @ shinra.corp

_He should be fine, just sleeping it off. Give him another hour if your schedule allows. He's probably fine, but just in case... Thank you, Zack. And thank you for taking this seriously._

TO: AHEWLEY @ shinra.corp

_Wow, way to make it sound serious. I'm just running drills, you know that. I'll go at 12._

TO: AHEWLEY @ shinra.corp

_Here now - he's not answering the door? Should he be up?_

TO: ZFAIR @ shinra.corp

_Give him a few minutes. Don't break down my door just yet._

Genesis raised his eyebrows, connecting the dots in his brain. "You're Zack Fair?"

"That's me," grinned Zack, who did actually remind Genesis a little of a puppy. He was young - seventeen or eighteen, with the kind of lean-muscled physique that looked more like Sephiroth's than Angeal's, but he had one of those big ShinRa broadswords strapped to his back.

"Okay," said Genesis flatly.

He took the Second's hand, turned it over and dropped the PHS into it.

"I'm fine. You're done here. Go home."

Then he shut the door to the sound of a startled exclamation and stumbled back to Angeal's bed. Sure, his was just down the hall, but Angeal's was soft and comfortable and it smelled like him. And also a lot like sex and sweat and semen, and a little bit like Sephiroth's shampoo.

Also he was not necessarily certain he could make it back to his bed. His legs were very wobbly.

He burrowed in and sighed, letting his exhausted body rest.

* * *

Zack stared at the door for a few seconds.

He was pretty sure the man that had come to Angeal's door was Genesis Rhapsodos. As in _Commander_ Genesis Rhapsodos. Which made some sense, since the rumour mill knew that Rhapsodos _had_ been pretty damn sick recently. It took a lot to knock one of the Firsts out of commission, but he'd been taken off the duty roster for treatment and everything.

If the person who'd answered the door was _sick_ , Zack a) hoped he caught whatever it was, and b) kind of wanted to call Angeal and the entire rumour mill out on their bullshit. That was _not_ the face of a man who was suffering.

Genesis had looked half-there, unsteady on his feet with dazed eyes and a slow, languid smile he probably didn't even know he was wearing. There was also a still-healing bruise just under his ear. It had faded a little even as he'd been at the door, which meant that it had been a hell of a mark when it was put there.

And he smelt overwhelmingly like sex. Like. Um. The whole apartment did. Zack was fairly certain he would not have needed any enhancements at all to smell that.

Then the man had opened his mouth and his voice sounded _exactly_ like he'd been screaming for hours.

TO: AHEWLEY @ shinra.corp

_He's fine. You didn't say I was checking on your boyfriend!_

TO: ZFAIR @ shinra.corp

_Good. Thanks, Zack. I appreciate it._

TO: ZFAIR @ shinra.corp

_Does that matter?_

TO: AHEWLEY @ shinra.corp

_No, but some warning mighta been nice. Do you have any idea what your place smells like right now?_

There was, predictably, no response.

Zack had never had the occasion to think about what Angeal might be like in bed before. If he could put that look on somebody's face - well.

Uh.

... _Well_.

Good for them, Zack guessed. Then he quickly changed the subject before he got into an argument with himself. He _always_ lost those.

* * *

On the western continent, Angeal put his face in his hands, which did nothing to hide the sudden redness of his face from the corporal across from him.

"...Sir?"

* * *

Shifting Genesis's working schedule around to let him stay at home the extra day was a change that altered a lot more than one day. Angeal ended up in Corel while Sephiroth was in Wutai. That meant that it was Genesis who shipped out to the front - by a dry-as-dust Lazard, who cordially if cynically wished him a speedy recovery from his 'condition' - instead of Angeal, and that it was Genesis who remained there to hold their position once he and Sephiroth completed their assault on Fort Jinfo.

That meant that when Angeal returned to headquarters, he had both the expected experience of Zack showing up out of nowhere to leap upon him - he didn't know how Zack found out about his schedule, but he always did - and the completely unexpected one of a slightly wild-around-the-eyes Sephiroth exiting the last of his day's meetings and almost dragging Angeal to one of ShinRa's shiny new VR rooms.

Angeal loved fighting. It was the only activity he'd ever encountered that engaged every part of him all at once: all his senses, all his skills, every last bit of will and energy. It was a glorious effort, and even just sparring with Sephiroth pushed him to the edges of his limits.

Generally speaking, though, Genesis and Sephiroth sparred a little too hard for good sense - and when they didn't have access to one another...

"Missing Genesis?" Angeal asked, even as he got his broadsword up just in time to block the swing of Sephiroth's absurdly long odachi.

"Perhaps you should concentrate on your sword work," Sephiroth suggested.

That was a yes, then. Jibes about his sword work aside, the trouble with Masamune was that if Angeal couldn't close the distance between them, Sephiroth's reach was insane. Even if he did manage to close it, Sephiroth would put another six feet between them easily. That was out of range for Angeal, but wasn't even close to being outside of the range for Sephiroth. It wasn't his sword work that was the problem exactly - it was _speed_.

He'd be better off using the buster sword in these circumstances, and if he ever had a serious fight against somebody with Sephiroth's range, Angeal was sure he'd end up doing that - but he wasn't using that sword in a _spar_. That wasn't what it was for.

Instead of rising to Sephiroth's bait - definitely too much time sparring with Genesis, there - he changed his angle of attack and used the extra force of Sephiroth's parry to sling himself around with a little more speed. If he was going to get anywhere, he'd have to use Sephiroth's strength and momentum against him - and dodge that long sword!

They both sprang into motion, Angeal with a fierce smile and Sephiroth with a tiny furrow in his brow.

It took them a long time to finish up, satisfied and sweating and distinctly worn.

"You yield?" Sephiroth asked, with a pleased crinkle around his eyes. Masamune's tip hovered half a centimetre off the floor next to Angeal's head.

"I do." _As always_ , Angeal thought, pushing himself from the floor with a tiny groan. He was neither fast enough nor flexible enough to get past Sephiroth, and every sparring session ended up being a master class in tactical fighting if he wanted it to last more than five minutes.

The VR room wasn't completely wrecked, although it would require a clean and some maintenance before it could - or at least before it _ought to_ \- be used again. Angeal watched tiredly from the doorway while Sephiroth plugged in a request for precisely that before they left.

There were two wide-eyed Thirds lingering outside the VR room, and they both stared at Sephiroth and Angeal as they walked past. Sephiroth took this entirely in stride, although Angeal couldn't help but slide an uncertain look their way.

Their whispered commentary was entirely concerning how long the VR room had been in use _with Sephiroth,_ gasp! and although he was sure the Thirds didn't intend for them to hear, Angeal relaxed when he heard it. Perfectly innocent.

The forty-ninth floor, being the territory of the SOLDIER department, was usually pretty okay like that. There were other floors where the things he overheard about himself - or worse, Sephiroth - were nowhere near as cute.

Sephiroth shot him a sideways look, but didn't comment on it. "Are you off?"

"Medical was clean, so I've got two days. ...I already forwarded my report to Lazard," he admitted. The trip back from Corel was long enough that he'd had it written up before he'd set foot back in the building.

Angeal was much more inclined to spend his flights to and fro getting paperwork done when it was just him and a bunch of infantry troopers.

Sephiroth hummed instead of replying.

He seemed significantly more relaxed now - although with Sephiroth 'relaxed' was sort of a misnomer. He seemed less likely to snap, less wire-tense. Having Genesis around to provide an outlet was surprisingly helpful, despite the relentless bickering.

They ended up by silent consensus in Angeal's apartment. Sephiroth never seemed to understand why he preferred it to his own, although Angeal could have told him. It was because Sephiroth's apartment was basically a display home - and not one of those nice, fully-decorated ones. It contained the bare minimum of stuff that he needed to live in it and nothing else.

Angeal's apartment had a worn and comfortable couch, two plants, books he was never going to read, a completely random and ever-growing collection of things that Zack brought back from missions - just _things._ They were not necessarily valuable or special things even, just things that made it more lived-in, even when it was quite meticulously clean.

Despite that, they had a fairly normal night - Angeal got the expected delayed onset muscle soreness about two hours after sparring with Sephiroth. His enhancements meant that it was mild and lasted only a couple of hours, but it was a good time for a shower and a nap.

Sephiroth finished with whatever highest-level requisitions he'd been processing (denying) while curled on the couch, cleaned up and joined him.

And... then it was just the two of them, curled silently together amid the clean sheets and familiar smells in the warm dark.

Sephiroth's skin smelled like soaps and something salty-sweet and the faintest corrosive tang of mako. Angeal found himself slinging one sleepy arm over his waist, drawing him closer with a soft contented sigh. His heartbeat was steady, slow and powerful, and it was just that and their breathing in the darkened room.

"It's too early to sleep," he said, quite sleepily.

Sephiroth ignored this comment.

They slept.

* * *

 

When Sephiroth woke up it was primarily because he was ready to wake, but partially because there was an enormous erection poking his lower back. Angeal had slug one leg over Sephiroth's hip in his sleep, and Sephiroth lifted it gently, wriggling out from under him. Something sharp scraped the skin of his back, and that - was odd.

Had they left something metal in the bed? He couldn't remember it, and neither of them had been wearing a stitch of clothing when they'd gone to sleep...

Angeal snuffled and reached for him. Sephiroth slipped easily away from the clumsy movement.

He peered into the bed, but he couldn't...

Oh.

Well.

"Angeal," he said.

"Froth," said Angeal, which Sephiroth - rather magnanimously - assumed was some kind of too-early-to-be-alive version of _Sephiroth_.

"Angeal, wake up. I believe you have developed one of the... mutations."

His eyes cracked open, brow furrowing, and he looked down. And... down.

At his penis.

"No," he said, like if he denied it hard enough it would not be a thing that was happening.

Sephiroth was... well, he thought he was sympathetic, and that was what the uncomfortable feeling in his gut was... but he didn't see how outright denying it was going to help anything.

He sat back on the bed and grabbed Angeal's forearm. "It is a mutation, nothing more. Like Genesis's-"

Angeal gave him a quelling look.

And, yes, okay. Sephiroth could allow that Genesis had been quite lucky in terms of useless mutations. They'd both spent the last several weeks exploring how many ways they could reduce him to incoherent noises and twitching, which as it turned out was many, _many_ very satisfying ways.

This... was not going to be quite as fun.

"Let me see," he said instead of something more comforting, and Angeal rolled awkwardly to allow him better access.

It was not at all how he liked to see his lovers, tense and wary and frightened in bed, and he didn't feel good about it. It felt strange and wrong to see, to feel, this kind of reluctance in Angeal when he was leaning over him, completely naked in bed.

The head of Angeal's penis was still nor- well, human. It was a very big cock and saying 'normal' was rather understating the matter. But it was still all velvety-soft skin, plush and darkly flushed with blood at the head. It was stiff and fat, foreskin retracted when hard, and when he squeezed gently the flesh was hard but slightly giving. The movement made Angeal's breath stutter and his eyes blink rapidly. It didn't seem to relax him at all despite that. Sephiroth consciously ignored it for now.

If he trailed his fingers down further, though, there were tiny bone-like protrusions that started beneath the corona and got progressively larger as he ran his fingers down the shaft of the penis. They covered the skin. At their closest to Angeal's body, they were almost half a centimeter long, and... well, they weren't _razor_ sharp, but with their thin points, relative hardness and backward curvature -

Pulling out from penetrative sex would probably cause a fair amount of bleeding.

Sephiroth rubbed one curious thumb over the spines, downward so as not to cause himself pain, and was surprised when Angeal shuddered. He'd thought... "You can feel these?"

Angeal nodded.

"Hmm." Touching his penis made him harder, and it seemed to Sephiroth that when he was more erect, the spines stuck out more; flacid, they would lay close and flat, and wouldn't have caused half the damage. The issue, then, wasn't the withdrawal of the penis following sexual contact - it was any kind of thrusting movement.

Experimentally, Sephiroth reached out and took a firm grip on the shaft of Angeal's penis. There was a distinct clench in the muscles of Angeal's abdominals, a catch in his breath. Sephiroth glanced up at his face and found him watching Sephiroth's hand, riveted to the sight of the crown of his penis sticking out of his fist, dark with blood and - ah, a bead of pre-ejaculate gathered around the slit while he followed Angeal's gaze.

There was still that awful hesitance in him. Uncertainty, fear, shame - they were easily read in his body language and his face, and Sephiroth had no idea what to do about any of them. Either way, they would need to assess the extent of the issue. Gathering facts and critical assessment was what Sephiroth excelled at, and that was what he'd concentrate on until he had a solution to the other things.

He slid his fist down the long, thick shaft and it was smooth and easy, and Angeal let his eyes flutter closed, and then he drew his grasp all the way back up and that - that was when he ran into a problem.

Because Angeal made a soft throaty noise of satisfaction at the movement, but the spines sticking out of his penis made bright red lines on Sephiroth's hand. They didn't cut him, but he was sure if he did it more than a few times, he'd be bleeding. And there were plenty of areas of his body with thinner skin than his hands.

Sephiroth withdrew his hand and examined Angeal's penis thoughtfully. "Angeal," he said, and the tone of his voice caught Angeal's attention and made him sit up.

He looked at Sephiroth's hand. An expression of actual horror dawned upon his face.

" _Gaia,_ " he muttered, grabbing Sephiroth's hand to inspect it.

By the time he was done examining the skin, he was white as snow and his hard-on was long gone.

"...it's like a cheese grater," he said.

Sephiroth did not know how to respond to that. He wasn't in the habit of lying to his partners, but he also felt acutely uncomfortable about the distressed expression on Angeal's face. He clenched his hand around Angeal's tightly. He could see Angeal's throat move when he swallowed.

"I'll come with you to the science department," had the effect of changing his expression, although Sephiroth wasn't sure that he liked this one any better. "Hollander or Hojo?"

There was a moment's hesitation. Then Angeal straightened his spine, set his shoulder and grimly said, "Hollander."

* * *

"Cat," pronounced Hollander, looking absurdly intrigued. Sephiroth did not like that expression aimed at his lover in general, or aimed his lover's penis in specific, and _especially_ not when it was one of Shinra's batty scientists wearing it. "In a feline, the spines are there to scrape the inside of the reproductive tract and prompt ovulation, but-"

Sephiroth hustled Angeal out as fast as possible. His face had gone white at 'scrape'.

There was nothing Hollander could do for them that would make up for putting that expression on Angeal's face.

"-Come back, I have so many questions-!"

And, well. No.

Sephiroth slammed the door in his face.

 _No_.

"Hojo," said Sephiroth, with some distaste.

"...All right." Angeal paused, but none of the apprehension showed on his face. Still, he probably wouldn't have gone had Sephiroth not been looming over him.

Hojo was only marginally less creepy about this specific mutation than Hollander had been.

"Hmm. Fascinating," said Hojo. Then: "Combat test."

"...with my penis?" Angeal looked distinctly uncomfortable, but at least he didn't look on the verge of an actual breakdown.

" _Idiot_ ," hissed Hojo.

The combat test was not with his penis. But it did show, in the end, that his joints and muscles were significantly more flexible, that he had superbly improved balance, and that he always landed on his feet.

"An intriguing development, especially from a failure..." Hojo mused.

"The spines," Sephiroth prompted.

Hojo didn't even look at him. "They do not interfere with movement or cause discomfort significant enough to impact the combat test negatively."

Sephiroth hummed. He knew Hojo, and he was not entirely sure how to get across the information that if Angeal couldn't sexually penetrate anything without ripping through it, he'd probably find his combat scores dropping pretty fast. The consideration relied on the idea that Angeal was a person as well as a specimen, and experience told him that it was a concept that Hojo would genuinely struggle with.

"I think it's a.. um, a quality of life issue," one of the lab assistants said in a tiny voice, which made Hojo look up and sneer.

" _Quality of life_. Hmph." A pause. "They could be removed surgically," he suggested, raising his eyebrows. "We'd grind them down. It wouldn't be unlike a dental operation. There isn't any guarantee that they'd stay gone, especially with how quickly you say they developed, but we could remove them."

Sephiroth glanced at Angeal, who looked really very ill.

There weren't any painkillers that did much for SOLDIERs. There were several of whom Sephiroth could think with professionally significant psychiatric dysfunction from surgery - flashbacks, panic, that sort of thing.

In fact, the closest thing they'd found to an effective painkiller was whatever now happened to Genesis when he came. While it could help the SOLDIER department quite a lot, Sephiroth wasn't quite prepared to order him to submit himself for testing.

Angeal didn't look like he was going to say anything at all.

"They are capable of sensation," Sephiroth said instead.

Hojo looked blankly at him, still waiting.

Angeal shifted uncomfortably, although he didn't decline. He didn't seem to know what to say at all. 

Hojo's expression was... interested.

"He'll consider it," Sephiroth said, by which he meant  _over my dead body_.

Hojo scoffed, but he only demanded six tubes of blood and a full-body scan before he let Angeal and Sephiroth on their way, which Sephiroth counted as a win.

Hours later, Angeal had roused enough for them to get something to eat, but he didn't seem inclined to actually get anything done that day.

Sephiroth watched him sulk for a half hour, but all it really did was give him a headache. "Give me time to think," he said. And also time to look up cat anatomy, apparently. That had not been expected, although he supposed that at least cats were mammals.

He tried to send him to Zack Fair by the simple expedient of saying: "You need a distraction for now. Your student will provide one."

Angeal seemed to disapprove of this use of the - of the _bond_ he had developed with Fair. "I'm his mentor. He's not there for me to lean on like that, it's-"

Sephiroth tuned him out completely. In his own quiet way, Angeal could be at _least_ as ridiculous as Genesis about certain things. He'd only met Zack Fair a few times, but he was pretty sure -

TO: ZFAIR @ shinra.corp

_Fair, I apologise for the intrusion. Angeal has a problem he does not want to discuss. I had hoped that you could distract him for a time while I work to resolve it. - Sephiroth_

TO: S @ shinra.corp

_How did you even get my email? Anyway: yeah, omw! dw I am an excellent distraction. Is this going to be like the time with Cmdr Rhapsodos?_

It took him a moment to parse the abbreviations, but - yes, that was basically what Sephiroth had expected. Then he tried to remember what 'the time with Commander Rhapsodos' could have entailed. Nothing came to mind.

TO: ZFAIR @ shinra.corp

_I doubt it. - S_

Zack showed up within actual minutes. He was dragging along a trooper with a confused expression. The trooper seemed to have given up on dislodging Zack's vicegrip on his arm.

"Angeal!" he yelled when Sephiroth let him in just as he sidled himself out, "Come meet Cloud!"

'Cloud' was apparently this unfortunate trooper's name, and he looked at Sephiroth with wide eyes as he passed.

Sephiroth eyed his hair. It was blond, which was rare enough in Midgar, but it was also extremely fluffy - a bit like Zack's, actually, except _worse_. Beneath the unruly hair were two of the biggest, bluest eyes Sephiroth had ever encountered. He looked too young to be enlisted, but the Turks were thorough, so...

At any rate, giving Angeal something to mother was an excellent distraction and he had no doubt that Zack knew what he was doing.

"Thank you," Sephiroth murmured, and received a bright, cheerful grin from Zack that lit up the whole hallway.

Well.

That would do for now.

* * *

While Angeal was distracted, Sephiroth called Genesis.

Doing it behind Angeal's back was a tactical decision. Perhaps Angeal wouldn't appreciate the disregard for his privacy, but Genesis was good at creative problem solving... and also deeply unpleasant when riled.

The phrase 'are you telling me that stupid cure turned the most perfect cock on the planet into a torture device' was probably the nicest thing he said in the first ten minutes of that conversation. Sephiroth suspected that he was enraged on Angeal's behalf as well as his own, but it was, as usual, quite hard to tell from the way he expressed it.

In the end, it only took twenty five minutes of lamentation and ranting and ' _why am I in Wutai, this is an emergency_ 'ing for Genesis to calm down.

When he did, his voice turned flat and authoritative. "Sex toys," he informed Sephiroth.

Sephiroth blinked once, slowly. "Sex toys," he repeated, his deep voice heavy with both curiosity and confusion.

"Mm. It's definitely an expensive solution," Genesis admitted, and then breezily added: "but you weren't spending your money on anything anyway. You might as well try it."

Sephiroth was silent.

After a second, Genesis sighed deeply, as though he couldn't quite imagine Sephiroth shopping for sex toys either. "Or my money, I suppose. There's a box under my bed. Go on."

A pause. "There is?"

"...yes," said Genesis, as though Sephiroth had asked something quite stupid. "Yes there is. Have you never-?" He was cut off when somebody yelled in the background, and then there was the unmistakable sound of an explosion, followed by screaming. Genesis clicked his tongue. "I have to go, but we will talk about this. The morrow may very well be barren of promises, but _nothing_ will forestall my return," he added in a disbelieving mutter, and then hung up.

Sephiroth looked thoughtfully at the PHS.

Sex toys.

Hmm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HIT ME WITH YOUR COMMENTS. Was there anything you liked?


	4. Silicone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genesis has a lot of sex toys. Sephiroth finds that weird, but also convenient. And... porn.

 Genesis’s apartment was a mess. It was always a mess. It was clean in the sense that there was never much dust or actual dirt, but he collected stuff at an absurd rate and he didn’t seem to understand what shelving or his closet was for. 

Sephiroth picked his way from the door of Genesis’s apartment through an assortment of boots, a spare leather coat, at least one low-level materia, two newspapers that had been aggressively vandalised at least a fortnight ago, two spare belts and a broken buckle. He opened the blinds, which never seemed to happen, and turned on a light.

Nothing that ought to have been refrigerated was left out on the kitchenette’s bench, but there were an assortment of things that should have ended up in Genesis’s tiny pantry casually left out. A small part of Sephiroth wanted to put things away on principle, but he was well aware that Genesis would probably notice. And then he would throw a fit.

Instead, he headed for the bedroom, trying not to twitch as he passed a towel that had been left to dry over the back of a chair instead of in the bathroom where it belonged. 

Genesis’s bed was huge and dressed with clean sheets that had been left in complete disarray because actually making his bed was a foreign concept to Genesis. 

Gingerly he dug under the bed until he found a box. It was the smallest size for one of those standard Shinra cargo cases, but that meant that it was... still pretty large. 

Carefully, Sephiroth popped the lid. 

Genesis had a _lot_ of sex toys. 

They were obviously cared for, only smelling faintly of antibacterial spray and silicone even to his oversensitive nose.

There were a number of things he didn’t really know what to do with -- although his imagination provided some graphic suggestions. One was still in its packaging, signed by a Red Leatherette, and it appeared to be modelled on an insect. A pretty, winged insect, but still... a silicone insect with bobbing antennae. He was also not sure what Genesis was meant to do with a ‘clitoral stimulator’. 

But... all right.

There was also a pile of straps and buckles that looked unpleasantly pinchy, a surprisingly strong rope... a collar so thick that it took Sephiroth a moment to determine that it was, actually, a collar -- just one designed to force a person’s head into a specific position... three pairs of novelty handcuffs that would never hold up and one Turk-issue set that might actually give a Third a bit of trouble, a string of some kind of beads that were too big and tacky to be jewellery but whose purpose Sephiroth could not discern...

His gaze drifted to seek out the things that made slightly more sense. Even if the possibilities were interesting, he had a mission here. And as Angeal was by far the most prudish of them, anything Sephiroth didn’t recognise would probably be completely irrelevant anyway.

There were things that looked oddly like they belonged in a tool box, right up until Sephiroth unscrewed the lid and realised that they seemed to be some kind of masturbatory sleeve system. That, at least, could be quite useful. The one he was peering at had an entrance made of some kind of white material, nothing flesh-like or particularly threatening about it. He dipped a finger curiously but cautiously inside the entry, and thought _oh, that’s so soft._

It was, very soft. Soft and... _well._

He... did wonder. He wondered what that would feel like on his penis. It wasn’t hard to see that the bottom end of the toy closed and opened in such a way that would create a seal, which could feel... 

He’d never really looked at an inanimate object and thought that he’d very much like to put his penis in it before. It was a strange thought.

And then he wondered why Genesis thought he needed five, and realised abruptly that each had a very different texture on the inside, which... Sephiroth shifted on his knees. 

Well. 

That was... something. He put the sleeves aside, feeling simultaneously kind of weirded out and turned on by the whole concept, and he moved on. 

Genesis seemed to keep a store of artificial phalluses in a very broad variety of shapes, textures and materials, several of which had the capacity to vibrate with varying degrees of strength. 

Sephiroth paused and wondered at that. He knew -- he had been made very aware, repeatedly and loudly -- that Genesis liked being the receptive partner during penetrative sex. 

And they had a _lot_ of sex. So... why did Genesis have so many artificial penises? Did he... need other ones? Was he somehow unsatisfied?

Sephiroth’s eyes narrowed. That was -- impossible. Especially lately. If Genesis had any more sex he might actually die. Perhaps he used them when his partners were away? That seemed to make more sense.

Then Sephiroth thought about Genesis sprawled across his bed, all alone... _indulging_ himself. For a second the image was overwhelming. He stared at a particularly large vibrator with a slack mouth and glazed eyes and all he could think about was the way Genesis’s lean muscles stood out when he went tense, those sweet gasps and shaking hands, the way he clutched at the sheets and moaned loudly when he came.

Sephiroth felt his entire body go really, really hot.

“Ahh,” murmured Sephiroth, about precisely nothing, and he shifted uncomfortably in pants that were quite suddenly about three sizes too tight. Yes, he decided, when Genesis got back they _would_ talk about this little box of his.

Sephiroth ran one finger curiously down a vibrator that had a number of large bulbs instead of one smooth shaft. A cord trailed from its flared base to a control with a dial on it. He flicked it, and the vibrations looked almost violent. 

Yes. They would talk about this at _length_. 

That was not why he was here now, however.

He switched the thing off.

Right. 

Angeal. He was pretty sure that the closest things to sex toys that Angeal had ever contemplated were condoms and lubricant - although SOLDIERs were so inhospitable to communicable diseases that they weren’t really bothered with the former.

After a second, Sephiroth dug in Genesis’s near-empty closet for a bag. Then he returned to the box and began carefully selecting things.

* * *

By the time Angeal got back from wherever he’d been with Zack, he seemed to have concluded... something.

Sephiroth waited for it.

“I’m going to say yes to Hojo.”

“I... see.”

Sephiroth‘s knee-jerk response was to turn and say _no, you‘re not_. He reined it in with some difficulty, but he was sure his expression was nowhere near neutral. He let the statement sit in the air for a second, waiting for his ire to settle. It didn’t really, but he could ignore it.

“And if they grow back?”

“There’s no indication that they will,” Angeal said prosaically.

Sephiroth hummed, but he wasn’t sure of that. The spines on Angeal’s penis had appeared overnight, and they weren’t a discrete mutation the way Genesis’s wing had been -- he had a lot of equally important changes, although none that had such a negative impact on his sex life. He flexibility and balance scores from Hojo’s tests showed that much.

And Hojo seemed to think that they would, too, from his comments earlier.

“It will hurt,” he said, instead of pointing that out.

Angeal swallowed. “A lot of things hurt,” he said grimly, and Sephiroth could agree with that, but... “It’s the only thing that will fix this.” 

Well. Hm. “You didn’t think Genesis needed fixing when he had a wing,” he pointed out. “You were upset with him for removing it.”

“That’s not the same thing, and you know it. I’m not going to take a knife to my own penis, but -” he paused and took a deep breath. “Any time I have sex with either of you,” said Angeal clearly and shortly and with a surprising amount of anguish in his voice, “I’m going to cut you. Do you know what it feels like, knowing that?”

Sephiroth hesitated. 

Angeal looked increasingly distressed. “You know I feel like... emotional bonds are made, when we’re together.”

Sephiroth nodded, although he wasn’t sure about the theory for his own sake. Angeal and Genesis both felt connected and got jealous in specific ways; Angeal was emotionally invested in sexuality in a way that Sephiroth didn’t quite understand but tried to appreciate. Sephiroth liked to think he was fairly rational about their relationship, at least until one of the others got hurt somehow. Then he was... not rational. 

“Humans...” Angeal said softly, “they make and maintain those bonds with touch and intimacy. What am I supposed to do if intimacy with me just... causes injury? I feel like a monster.”

Sephiroth was silent for long enough that Angeal sighed and got up, patting Sephiroth‘s knee, and headed to his kitchenette to begin dinner. 

After a long time of weighing his options and trying to figure out the minefield that was this conversation, Sephiroth said: “If you decide surgery is the only satisfactory option, I won’t try to stop you. However,” he added when Angeal stiffened, “I did have some ideas. Did you want to try those first?”

Angeal paused where he was preparing a dinner that seemed to consist of poached fowl and green vegetables. “Ideas?” he said carefully.

Sephiroth let his mind drift to the bag he’d dumped on Angeal’s bed earlier. “Several,” he assured him, getting up to draw Angeal away. “Let me show you.”

“...All right.”

The ended the day as they’d begun it: in bed, naked. 

And also just as they’d begun, Angeal looked increasingly stressed. 

“Are you sure about this?” he asked. And “We have to make sure I don’t accidentally rub it -- them -- on you,” and “Sephiroth, maybe--”

Sephiroth cupped his face in one hand and leaned in to bite gently just below his ear. “Would you just trust me?”

He could hear Angeal swallow. No further protests were forthcoming.

Despite that, it seemed that no amount of kissing and soft touches would persuade Angeal out of his unacceptable tension. He twitched whenever Sephiroth reached below his waist.

“What’s Genesis going to say,” he muttered finally, throwing one arm over his eyes. He pushed Sephiroth’s face away from his belly where he’d been licking a long, wet stripe. 

Sephiroth wasn’t sure if he ought to answer that question. Having already spoken to Genesis about it, he had quite a lot of insight into the answer -- but he also wasn’t going to repeat half of the things Genesis had said. He hadn’t meant most of them anyway.

“He’d probably be annoyed you’re being so dramatic about it,” he suggested, drawing his hair away from his face.

“Hypocrite.” Angeal snorted, and Sephiroth quirked a smile at him. Then he sighed very quietly. Angeal still looked acutely uncomfortable, and nothing Sephiroth had done, none of the nibbling and kisses or sweet caresses had persuaded the tension out of him.

“This isn’t working,” Angeal muttered. “What were you planning, anyway?”

Sephiroth regarded him carefully for a moment, and then he reached over, scooped up the bag he’d brought from Genesis’s apartment, and pulled out the first likely object he could feel inside it. It was a tube, basically -- one of the oddly designed sleeves that had looked so... fascinating, when he was pawing through them in Genesis’s bedroom.

Angeal frowned. “...I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, “but what is it?” He took it from Sephiroth, and it was only a few seconds later that he uncapped the tube

He looked nonplussed for a moment longer, and then he blinked. “Oh,” he said, flushing red right across his cheekbones. “You...”

“Touch it,” Sephiroth suggested. There was something satisfying about the nervous look on Angeal’s face -- no longer frustrated and distressed, at the very least. He rubbed one long-fingered hand along Angeal’s thigh, enjoying the heavy muscled weight of it. Angeal didn’t twitch away from him. Good. Progress.

Angeal ran an experimental finger over the tiny-looking entrance to the toy. “It’s _soft_ ,” he said, sounding surprised. His finger dipped in further and he stopped. “Oh,” he mumbled. “There’s --” a pause. Then he looked back at Sephiroth, flushing darkly. “There’s ribbing.”

Yes, Sephiroth had noticed that. And imagined it. And his imagination _had_ gotten away with him a little bit. He nodded. “Do you want to try it?”

There was another short silence, almost frightened, and Angeal looked away. He was silent for a long few seconds.

No doubt he was experiencing some obscure humiliation over the thing. Sephiroth leaned in and licked up the shell of his ear. “Just yes or no, Angeal.”

He exhaled, eyes fluttering at Sephiroth’s hot breath and low voice in his ear. “Yes.”

“Good.”

“Won’t I shred it?”

“Probably,” said Sephiroth, unconcerned. 

“But --”

Sephiroth gave him a cranky look from beneath his bangs. “What did I say?” he asked in exactly the tone that brought whole armies to attention.

Luckily, it worked just as well on Angeal. “Yes or no,” he repeated automatically.

“And?”

“...Yes.” A shaky exhaled breath.

“Good. Hands by your sides, I need to see what I’m doing.” 

Much like everything Genesis owned, his sex toys appeared to be no-expense-spared designs. This one had a helpful button that would allow it to gently heat its own insides, which seemed ideal. Then it needed lubricant, although judging the amount on a sex toy he’d never used was trickier than he’d expected. He’d have to trust Angeal to tell him if it wasn’t enough. 

He set it aside to heat for a few moments longer, then leaned forward. Angeal’s cock was plumping, edging toward being fully hard. That was good, but it also meant that when Sephiroth pressed his whole body against Angeal’s, he could feel the scrape of spines slowly angling out along his belly. It didn’t really hurt -- just a brief, small discomfort. He could put up with a lot more than that.

His hair slid forward as he moved, falling over his shoulders and down Angeal’s chest. He felt, more than heard, Angeal’s breath hitch at the silky spill of it. He kissed him, gently at first. He licked at the seam of his mouth, coaxing Angeal to relax enough to part his lips. The inside of his mouth was warm and soft, beautifully inviting. Angeal smiled against his mouth - this tiny, awkward curve of his lips that made it harder to kiss without being sloppy but which he’d not trade for anything. Sephiroth felt his skin break out in pleased little shivers. He closed his eyes and sighed into it.

They kissed, slow and easy and languid, and _so much better_ than the anxious responses earlier.

“Are you ready?” he wondered, and rubbed his hand down over Angeal’s belly, fingers drawing long lines through the pubic hair above his cock, carefully -- ah, ouch. Yes, decidedly ready. “Yes, you are,” he concluded without further input.

Good. 

He combed his fingers gently through the hair there for a second, then reached aside and picked up the toy. The inside, when he tested it, was pleasantly warm -- not hot enough to hurt such very sensitive skin, which was what he wanted to be certain of. It was almost a different texture when it was warm, but still incredibly soft. 

Sephiroth took a hold on Angeal’s stiff penis, pressing gently downward with his fingers to avoid scraping himself on the spines there, and slid the lubricated sleeve slowly, carefully down upon it. 

The sound Angeal made was amazing. He watched him, riveted to the sight of it, and felt a soft answering grunt escape his own throat.

He could almost see the sensations as they passed across Angeal’s swiftly flushing face. 

“What’s it like?” he wondered, running his fingers uncertainly over the outside. It was hard and solid, only a little warm to the touch. Nothing like the inside.

“Uh,” said Angeal, not very coherently. “...soft. Really soft.”

“Mm.” He wasn’t sure, but he suspected that the texture inside the sleeve would provide a lot of sensation. It had seemed fairly enticing when he was examining them -- nice, regularly ribbed for points of pressure that moved when one shifted the toy, but nothing too terribly scary or threatening. 

Sephiroth began moving the toy, just tiny little movements up and down. Just enough for Angeal to really feel it.

“Oh. _Ohh_ ,” Angeal’s voice went breathy. He stared at Sephiroth, wild-eyed. He swallowed. “Um,” he added, when Sephiroth’s hand stilled.

“You were saying,” he prompted, pleased with this initial response. It was so satisfying to watch.

Angeal gave him a narrow eyed glare. His chest was rising and falling a little more obviously, breath coming a little faster. “You can feel the bumps. Like a --” he paused, bit his lower lip. “Are you only going to move that when I’m -- ah!” 

Angeal jerked and swore.

Sephiroth stopped again and waited.

“Are you only going to move that when I’m talking?” Angeal got out finally.

"Maybe," murmured Sephiroth, by which he meant _absolutely_. “Perhaps you should keep talking.”

“Sephiroth.” Angeal chided. He flushed, somehow even brighter. 

Sephiroth watched him, unmoved. He supposed it would be unfair to make him if he truly didn’t want to, but ---

"Soft," Angeal repeated quietly but gamely, and oh. Oh yes. Sephiroth felt the excitement curling in his own belly. "And -- it's - uh," he gave an effortful grunt, jerking his hips when Sephiroth slid the sleeve back down in a long slow movement. "The bumps on the inside. They. It feels like squeezing different parts when--" he broke off in a long low groan, shuddering hard when Sephiroth drew the toy all the way up until it was almost off his penis entirely. It made a slick, squishing noise. 

Angeal panted silently. A whine escaped him.

Sephiroth ran his finger - down, so as not to cause himself discomfort - the hypersensitive underside of the penis shaft, cataloguing Angeal's responsive twitch carefully. 

"It feels like it's sucking me in," he said, all in a rushed exhale. 

"The end creates a vacuum seal," Sephiroth informed him clinically. "Do you enjoy it?"

"What kind of -- _ah_!” Angeal swore and blinked stupidly, bucking his hips hard into the sudden press of the toy. He bit his lip and groaned. 

He looked good like this, Sephiroth thought. It was so much better to see him twisting his fists in the sheets and groaning and sighing like this. He wanted to erase every hint of that earlier shame and anxiety, burn it away. He thought he'd rather like to wring it out of him.

He drew his hand back again, careful now, and listened, eyes half closed and expression satisfied, to the choked sound Angeal made at the powerful suction. Angeal’s hips jerked hard, bouncing Sephiroth on his thighs. 

He could feel the strain in his quads, see the trembling of his abdominals. Angeal tipped his head back, tendons showing in his neck. 

It was a lovely sight. Sephiroth licked his lips, fascinated by the sweat, enchanted by the heaving of his chest. 

"Tell me you like it," he requested softly, and was unsurprised to hear his own voice had dropped to a silky purr.

Angeal groaned. "I like- ah, I like it," he repeated dutifully. It took him a moment, but then his eyelashes fluttered and he opened his eyes. They glowed with mako in the dimness. "I like it," he repeated hoarsely but firmly, "it feels good. So g--oh _. Like that_ ," and his voice was an octave lower, the kind of vibrating rumble Sephiroth fancied he could feel in his bones. "Just like that. Keep doing it like -nnnggh," he broke off again into a helpless moan. 

It felt like somebody had tipped warm oil straight down the slope of Sephiroth's spine, and he couldn’t prevent the shiver that followed. He loved that sound. He kept his movements exactly as they were, measured and not that fast, but firm. He did so enjoy seeing Angeal like this, all flushed and undone and gasping beneath him.

"Yes," mumbled Angeal, eyes unfocused. His powerful thighs strained against Sephiroth's weight. He made soft noises like that, all pleasure and sweet endearments, and when he came he tossed his head back with a grunt that was almost pained, panting hard, messing his hair wildly against the pillows. “Oh. Gaia. _Sephiroth_.”

His muscles strained beautifully when he came.

What a precious, lovely thing. He dragged his nails down Angeal’s chest and over his belly just to watch him twitch.

When he was relaxed, panting, blinking at the ceiling in what seemed more like dazed shock than tiredness, Sephiroth unscrewed the back end of the sleeve to reduce the suction effect. He still saw Angeal wince when he drew it away from his penis, but it was hardly more than a flicker of expression over his face. 

Sephiroth glanced at the inside when he set the thing aside. Yes. Utterly shredded. Well, no point cleaning that, then. It was a pity, but he was sure they’d be able to get another. More importantly, it wasn’t _Sephiroth_ who was shredded, so he counted it as a qualified success.

“So,” he said, unseating himself from Angeal’s thighs and settling next to him instead, “do you think that will work?”

“Uh-huh,” said Angeal distantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anything in particular you liked? Let me know. :)


	5. Oil and Rubble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angeal thinks a lot about being professional but since everybody he knows is conspiring to assassinate professionalism as a concept it's kind of an uphill battle. Porn and hijinks.

Angeal didn't really get used to it.

Well, he didn't dissolve into despair and panic and ask Professor Hojo to grind off parts of his cock. So he was dealing with it. But that wasn't the same as being used to it, and he certainly wasn't _happy_ about it, and...

And, well, Angeal didn't really think of himself as a pervert, but it was kind of surprising how much sex he'd been having without really thinking about it. And now he had to think about it every time, because he couldn't have sex without being in a state of constant paranoia that he was about to slice Sephiroth open or something.

He... still hadn't spoken to Genesis about the Spiky Penis Problem.

And he was returning soon. And it made Angeal... anxious. He wished it would happen already so he could face the conversation and be done with it.

"He knows," said Sephiroth blandly. Never mind that they were in the back of a transport with four other SOLDIERs. It was a high-level dry run, but even so, the standards of professionalism tended to slip the same way they did on any field assignment.

Angeal's shoulders hunched somewhere up around his ears. At least Sephiroth hadn't said 'he knows that you have developed the terrifying penis of a cat', but he'd be an idiot to think nobody had he-

Wait, _what_?

"He _knows_?" Angeal hissed.

"...Were you not going to tell him?" Sephiroth wondered, and his brow furrowed like he was trying to figure out how that would work.

"I-" Well. He could hardly avoid telling him. What kind of weird sex would they have to be having for Genesis to just _not notice_? He had to tell him. But - "You don't think _I_ might have been the one to tell him?"

"Tell who what?" Zack asked cheerfully.

Angeal and Sephiroth turned to look at him.

Zack blinked guilelessly.

Angeal opened his mouth to say it was personal, and then closed it again - because if Zack had responded to such a question with 'it's personal', he'd have told him _not to discuss it in a transport full of SOLDIERs._

"I ...lost a copy of a book," he said lamely. "It belongs to Commander Rhapsodos."

There was a collective flinch. Even those who had been pretending not to listen seemed to accept that some terrible, horrible, very bad fate would befall Angeal.

"Oh," said Zack, wrinkling his nose. Then, strangely, he _flushed_. Bright red. Right across his cheekbones. "He, uh, he likes you a lot, though, I'm sure it'll be okay."

Angeal peered sideways at his student. To his knowledge, Zack had only really spoken to Genesis once, and that was when he'd sent him to make sure he hadn't somehow expired in Angeal's bed.

He must have made quite an impression on Zack -- enough to make him blush. Angeal hadn't been entirely sure Zack _could_ blush. He got himself into horrifyingly awkward situations with appalling frequency, but this was the first time he'd seen that red heat rise to his face. 

Huh.

"Ah," said Sephiroth, about five seconds before the transport stopped. He had no map and no clear view of the tiny, bulletproof window, so it was a mystery how he knew that they'd made it. But the transport did stop just seconds after Sephiroth began stretching out his long limbs, and then it was time to be professional.

(Or, in their case, thought Angeal wryly, to pretend again for a while.)

 

* * *

 

When Genesis returned to HQ from Wutai he didn't seem to bother with putting his pack away or showering or sleeping it off. He just showed up during Angeal's debrief, shoving the door open with one knee, hands occupied by a book. He strolled in leisurely, letting his pack drop to the floor next to the door as he came. The silence was a little stunned, although perhaps it shouldn't have been. Genesis wasn't known for his firm grasp on office etiquette, after all.

His footsteps tapped lightly on the polished floor as he circled the room, taking up all the space and all the air with every easy movement. There was a high window, and the forty-ninth floor was just high enough up to get actual sun above Midgard. That rarely-seen sun peered in and it lit Genesis's skin golden-pale and turned his hair a burnished, apocalyptic red under its light.

Angeal was massively unsurprised when, as soon as he was certain he had everyone's undivided and slightly bewildered attention, Genesis flung one arm out wildly and announced: "Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess."

" _Um_ ," said Zack quietly.

Genesis ignored him. Angeal crossed his arms over his chest and sighed.

Having barged in and circled the desk as he pleased, Genesis slung one long arm over Lazard's shoulder, lowering his face until his red hair mingled strangely with Lazard's gold. "We seek it thus, and we take to the sky. Ripples from the water's surface," he breathed, close enough now that Lazard's hair shifted with the force of his breath.

Angeal could see the man shudder at the heat of Genesis's breath on his ear, and that was close enough that: one, Angeal was suddenly a little resentful of Lazard and his stupid sharp features and pretty yellow hair; and two, Genesis was almost definitely flirting with a sexual harassment lawsuit.

"The wandering soul knows no rest." There was a solemn, smoky quality to his voice and he gestured extravagantly, as though indicating with a wide, theatrical sweep precisely how much rest the wandering soul knew not.

And while Lazard's gaze followed the flutter of that one gloved hand, apparently unable to do otherwise, Genesis was scanning the report right in front of him on the desk. "Well. Monsters in sector six. _Riveting_ ," he drawled, straightening and crossing his arms. 

There was a pause.

"The safety of Midgar's occupants is paramount," said Lazard blandly, gathering the reports just slightly closer to his chest. Angeal shot him an uncertain look. Lazard often said exactly the right things in precisely the right tone, but in such a way as to make Angeal question his sincerity.

Genesis, on the other hand, had no such sincerity to question. "How heroic."

"Hey," said Zack quietly, frowning heavily at him. "People do need us to-"

"- and it sounds like Fair is _more_ than equal to the task," Genesis interjected, speaking over the top of him.

Angeal was not absolutely certain that he was, actually. He'd have trusted Zack with the actual mission unsupervised. The paperwork after... not so much. Zack was clever, but he had the attention span of a puppy when faced with a task he didn't feel like doing.

"Mm," said Angeal, injecting a great deal of dubiousness into his voice without actually voicing any doubts.

Zack shot him a betrayed look. "Angeal!"

Angeal glanced toward him. Was it... was it really okay for eyes pumped full of that much mako to be so huge and wobbly?

Genesis rolled with it. "A good SOLDIER learns how to do his own paperwork, doesn't he, Angeal? Director?" Genesis flashed Lazard a smile that added, _I dare you_.

Angeal had the split-second premonition that life would become very, very complicated if ever Zack and Genesis actually teamed up.

Lazard eyed Angeal, glanced at Zack, then returned his attention to Genesis. "We were winding up," he said slowly. Then, evidently having considered his options and picked his battle: "Go," he said to Angeal.

" _Love_ ly," said Genesis, and swooped down upon him.

"Angeal?" asked Zack, bewildered, and Angeal didn't have the time to answer him before the door slammed behind them. "Is that about the book thing?" he heard Zack wonder, but Lazard's response, whatever it was, was lost.

Angeal was not quite sure what happened between point A and point C but he ended up, somehow, in Genesis's office with Genesis's mouth forcing his lips open even as he kicked the door closed behind them - with a completely obvious bang.

"Genesis," said Angeal, either by way of protest or greeting, he wasn't really sure. Genesis's hands lay heavily upon his chest, then dragged over his shoulders and pulled him in by the back of the neck, playing gently but maddeningly with the hair there. His kisses were heady and dizzying. Angeal could smell the foreign places and smoke trapped in Genesis's hair, taste the travel dirt on his skin.

"Angeal," agreed Genesis. He broke away to see what he was doing for a moment. Then he dropped his bag to the floor by their feet.

He tore Angeal's belt away while Angeal's senses were still reeling. Then he shoved his hands down his pants, grabbed generous handfuls of his ass and used the grip to draw Angeal in until both of them could feel every solid inch of one another. It was warm. Close. It was familiar and strangely comforting to feel the weight of Genesis and press up against him. He had shoulders broader than the rest of his build would seem to suggest, and Angeal's heavily-muscled weight was as nothing to him. For a second he just stayed there and inhaled.

One of Genesis's hands ran right up the curve of his spine, fingers pressing hard into the muscles. He rumpled his shirt on the way and his strong deft fingers drew shivers in their wake. He pressed him in for another kiss, and this one seemed aimed at relearning all the good parts of his mouth.

Angeal should've known better, he thought, even as he sighed and completely melted into the contact.

The knowledge that he really shouldn't have let Genesis drag him away from a meeting specifically to make out in his office in the middle of a work day sat ill with him, but he couldn't deny he'd been missed. Being professional wasn't worth missing out on this, anyway.

He felt Genesis's smile curl against his mouth. The hand still shoved down the back of his pants squeezed his butt thoughtfully. "Mm," said Genesis, drawing back to breathe the words open-mouthed against Angeal's lips. He nibbled gently at the lower one, a delicate tug that made tiny shivers burst over Angeal's skin.

"So I heard you had a mutation problem," he broached without warning, and Angeal stiffened.

"Yes," he said distantly.

Genesis seemed to take the sudden cooling of his attitude in stride. "Are you going to let me see? Sephiroth said you were mostly done having hysterics, but he's..."he paused delicately, and didn't continue.

Angeal was certain that Sephiroth had not at any point referred to it as 'having hysterics'. More likely he'd said 'concerned' or 'difficulty adjusting' in that way that could have indicated anything from mild discomfort to developing some kind of severe mental illness.

"Well," said Angeal awkwardly, "you'll ...have to see eventually. Maybe not in the middle of a work day," he added, trying to remind himself that he had standards.

On the other hand, Genesis was here now, and it seemed like a terrible relief to just get it over with. He swallowed.

"They're all work days," Genesis said dismissively, and Angeal didn't really protest when he drew away just enough to get at the front closure of his trousers.

Angeal was getting used to it, but that didn't do a lot to help the weird shudder of revulsion he got every time he actually had to see it. Showing another person was worse.

Genesis seemed so completely unconcerned that Angeal wasn't really sure they were even looking at the same thing.

"Hmm," he said thoughtfully. There was a miraculous lack of shame in Genesis, and he bent to study the changes to Angeal's penis without the least self consciousness. "Are they sensitive?" he asked curiously, reaching forward to run a finger along the shaft of his penis. It was flaccid, and Genesis's uniform gloves were actually fairly sturdy, so Angeal didn't say anything.

"Is _your_ dick sensitive?" he bit out instead. The answer to Genesis's question was of course yes, and since he wasn't actually made of stone having Genesis bend between his knees to run his smooth-gloved fingertips all over the surface of his dick did actually create... certain feelings. Ones that curled low in his gut and forced a low, pleased sigh from him.

Genesis made a noise that, rather than sounding horrified at the way the spines started to stick out as blood plumped his penis inevitably to erection, was actually kind of satisfied. "Good to know it still works properly," he said with a smile. "Were you really that upset about this?"

Angeal clenched his teeth. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to talk, but Genesis reached out and wrapped his whole hand around his cock. The glove's surface was smoother than Genesis's hands, which were pretty but callused from sword work. It was a smooth, gliding feeling, foreskin rolled back and nerves firing from his dick to his spine, a gathering sensation low in his belly.

Talking was clearly not what Genesis had in mind.

Then he straightened fluidly and pushed Angeal back. "Lean on the desk," he commanded. "Lean back, you're going to need it, come on."

"I'm what?"

"You're going to need it," he repeated, lifting his chin and giving him a very challenging look indeed. "For when your legs give out."

Angeal snorted softly, although Genesis's arrogance was kind of exciting.

He set his hips against the desk, leaned back on his hands. It was strange and obscene, settled back against the desk where Genesis did (or didn't do) his paperwork with his penis stiff and swollen and jutting out from the closure of his trousers. The spines were sticking out, too, making an ugly silhouette against his belly.

Genesis smiled, a narrow, inviting expression. He reached into his bag for a second and then pulled out a bottle of oil - sword oil, for sheathes and leather boots, designed to prevent cracks and rust. The scent of cloves bloomed upon the air.

"I'm not sure that's safe," said Angeal, although he wasn't really worried. People-safe and SOLDIER-safe were usually pretty different things.

"I checked. It's fine if you're not made of latex," Genesis assured him, prompting the mental imagine of Genesis hunched over the bottle in his copter flight back. The thought was adorable, right up until Genesis tipped a good quarter of the bottle over Angeal's cock.

It hit his belly first and spilt cool and slick over his abs. It caught messily in the trail of his pubic hair. The slow slippery drizzle of oil hitting his penis made him want to jerk his hips up into the teasing spill of it. Angeal blinked rapidly and bit his lip. There was no extra pressure when he shifted his hips restlessly, just the low pleased murmur of Genesis's voice.

"Ah," he purred quietly, and reached out to rub the slick oil over the plush head of Angeal's cock.

A trail of oil made its way down the underside of his penis and trickled over his balls. It... tickled, sort of, in a way that made him twitch and blink too quickly. He could feel a thin trail slide down the inside of his knee.

"Look at that." Genesis's voice was soft and full of an aching anticipation. Angeal was looking. With its foreskin retracted, the head of his cock stood out flushed and heavy with blood, a stark contest against the gleaming spines.

He wasn't really seeing the appeal, but he was too hot to be disgusted by it. He swallowed and bit his lip.

Footsteps moved along at a fast clip outside the room, too quick for them to be coming to Genesis's office, but Angeal couldn't help glancing uneasily that way.

Genesis squeezed, hard enough to really catch his attention, and dragged his grip right up the shaft of his penis, prickling the spines over his fingers. There was a wet sound, and the oil made everything slick and sloppy and set his nerves alight. Angeal's breath deserted him all at once. His eyelids fluttered, his face fell slack.

"Don't look at the door," said Genesis, pumping his fist on Angeal's dick slowly but deliberately. There was little friction, but the oil was warmed by his hands even though the gloves, and it made everything maddeningly messy and hot and slippery. "Look at me."

Angeal did, and Genesis licked his lips, clearly pleased to have his full attention again. He stared at Angeal intently through a spill of bloody red hair. "That's better."

Gloves and slick oil, and the quality of the friction was so different. Genesis squeezed, careful but firm, almost _hard_ , and Angeal thought he could see sparks for a second. He breathed hard, desperate for air, and there was no way that half the SOLDIER floor right outside his door couldn't hear him.

"Genesis," he hissed out, latching on to one of Genesis's biceps with a hand. Genesis ignored him, which was lucky because Angeal didn't know if he was protesting or begging.

He gathered up the spilt oil on Angeal's belly and thighs just to rub it into the skin and make him moan.

Genesis's eyes were glowing, obvious even under the bright halogen lights in their office. He was so familiar with Angeal's body, with its tells and all of its secrets, and Angeal could nearly feel his hot stare on his penis even though his own eyes were blinking, fluttering helplessly closed. He let his head tip back, relaxed and groaning into each stroke.

Genesis's knees made a telltale thump on the floor, and the damp heat of his breath hit Angeal's belly, rolled right over his leaking, oil-slicked cock. Angeal's knees were suddenly completely unreliable. He knew, _knew,_ that if Genesis tried to put Angeal's dick in his mouth they were going to end up in the goddamn infirmary, but he wanted it so much, so badly.

His legs were shaking and he could almost feel the startling slippery warmth of his mouth just through sheer imagination.

Then Genesis licked the crown of his penis like he had all the time in the world, tongue soft and hot and terribly, brain-fryingly thorough. "Ah..." Angeal trailed off in soft grunts and gasped breaths.

He licked down, all the way down, with the flat of his tongue a hot slippery pressure on the sensitive underside of Angeal's cock. Its passage pressed the spines flat along the skin, a shocking prickle of sensation. Angeal's pulse throbbed in his dick, fast and wanting, and there was no way for Genesis to miss how hard he was then, how the blood beneath his skin had made Angeal's cock so swollen and fat, aching with it.

But he could also feel how as soon as Genesis tried to drag his tongue back up he was going to cut himself, have a mouth full of blood and-

"Shit," grunted Angeal when Genesis _did it anyway_. He seemed completely unconcerned by the pain of it. "Shit. Genesis, you -"

Genesis leaned in and sealed his lips around the head of Angeal's cock, and all the words went out of Angeal's skull without further notice. He opened his mouth, either to moan wildly or berate him for not being careful, neither sound emerged: instead it was just a breath of air, a low, gasped _haaahhh_ in the back of his throat.

Below the maddening sucking of his mouth, Genesis rubbed one gloved hand along the slick, swollen shaft of his penis, slow but firm and very sure. He had a grip on his hip with the other, and Angeal fixed his grip to the edge of the desk, breathing hard.

He came with his teeth buried in his lip, breathless and incoherent, and Genesis sucked on his cock like his semen was the best taste in the world - which Angeal could say with absolute certainty it was not. What Angel meant was _oh god, oh gaia, oh yes_ ; what actually came out was slurred and meaningless, low excited moans in time with the rolling thrust of his hips.

His chest was heaving when he blinked his eyes open again. Genesis rose to his feet and twined the oily fingers of one hand in the hair at the nape of Angeal's neck, although the other hand was still rubbing soothing circles over his hip. He kissed him deeply, thoroughly, with the taste of his own semen and the strange sharpness of the oil caught up between their tongues. It made his head swim. A thin trail of oil dripped from Genesis's gloved hand all the way down his spine and he shuddered at the feeling.

"Angeal," said Genesis, in a voice that was unexpectedly hard. Angeal flinched and blinked his eyes back open.

"I don't care if this stupid cure turns you into a fucking Zolom," he hissed, all flashing mako eyes and fiercely bared teeth. "You _come to me._ Tell me. You come to me, and I will figure it out and together we will take care of it. Do you understand?" Genesis grasped his penis with the other hand, and he used that grip to squeeze, just on the painful side of good, and Angeal's cock was soft, too sensitive for the touch.

Angeal made a noise. It was half shock, part pain, part dazed agreement.

After a second, Genesis released him. "Good," he said.

Angeal exhaled a long shaky breath.

Genesis took a step back. He gave Angeal a look like he was newly-finished canvas. Angeal swallowed, suddenly very aware of being shoved back against Genesis's desk with his trousers around his thighs, shirt rucked up. His belly and thighs were covered with oil, gleaming in the harsh light, and he wasn't sure he could even move yet - his knees definitely wouldn't take his weight.

Genesis looked at him with hot, hot eyes. Angeal was grateful for his absurdly enhanced vision, because he would never have noticed the tiny shiver that went through him otherwise.

There were still a couple minutes, maybe five, before he could achieved erection again - SOLDIER refractory period was absurdly short but it still existed - but there was a lurch low in his belly, _a please God give me three minutes and don't go away_ kind of shift of muscle and nerves. "Why are you over there?"

He reached out one hand, offering, and gave Genesis a smile that was uncommonly relaxed.

Genesis looked torn for a second. Then, "I have debrief in fifteen," he admitted, biting his lower lip, "and unlike your milk run cleaning out monsters in the slums with your rookie, mine's actually relevant to the war."

Fifteen, thought Angeal, narrowing his eyes. They could-

Except no, they couldn't. Because even if Angeal could make Genesis come right this second, it would take longer than fifteen minutes for the orgasm to stop. He'd still be at least fifteen, maybe twenty, minutes late.

Angeal restrained the urge to swear because they were in the middle of their office and there were levels of professionalism beneath which he wasn't - or he shouldn't be - willing to sink. Every SOLDIER on the floor probably already knew what they'd gotten up to.

Genesis cocked an eyebrow like he knew _exactly_ what Angeal was thinking.

Then, with a sigh, he toed his pack. "My spare uniform's clean," he said pointedly. "You'll never get that oil out."

At least he didn't let anybody peer inside when he left, shutting the door with a click after him.

And Angeal supposed that, even though Genesis dragged them all down to new lows of unprofessional behaviour, he was also...

_You come to me, and I will figure it out and together we will take care of it. Do you understand?_

There was nobody to see it, but Angeal still ducked his head against his smile

Well.

... _Well_.

Angeal cleaned up as best he was able and made himself presentable - barring a few weird oil stains on his underclothes, anyway. At least the lingering smell of clove oil was strong enough to drown out any lingering scents of sex - or so he assumed, because Zack sniffed in his direction and gave him a few weird looks.

"Did somebody tip a maintenance kit all over you?" he wondered, leaning a little closer with his nose wrinkled up.

"Genesis," said Angeal, and it wasn't even a lie.

"Rough," said Zack sagely, and patted him on the arm.

Angeal coughed and changed the subject, hoping against hope he wasn't completely red.

Genesis was taken up by debriefing for the whole afternoon, stuck going over and over reports from the front with Lazard, Scarlet, Heidegger and, if his report was to be believed, 'the remains of Heidegger's lunch, living in his foul beard'.

Despite how vastly hypocritical the suggestion had been, Angeal decided that Genesis had the right of it: Zack _did_ need to learn to write his own reports. That meant that Angeal had the exciting afternoon of going over report procedure.

The weird fact was that when Zack fixed his attention on something, it stayed there. He was driven, clever and relentless - but he seemed completely incapable of _selectively_ applying himself. In the life-or-death, dangerous tasks of a SOLDIER on mission it wasn't as noticeable, because survival instincts dragged his attention in the right direction. As soon as Angeal sat him down and tried to persuade him to concentrate on something more mundane, he became worse than useless.

"Zack," he said eventually, trying for delicacy and mostly just landing somewhere around weariness instead, "if you have some kind of learning disability you're afraid to tell me about -"

"Angeal!" squawked Zack.

"Zack," said Angeal, shrugging. "I saw your written grades as a cadet. I'm not an expert, but that sort of thing does happen. Even the best of SOlDIERs have areas of weakness, so if you need help with focusing on writing in particular, or-"

" _Angeal!_ " This time it was more of a wail.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of," Angeal insisted doggedly, even though he suspected he was only exacerbating Zack's embarrassment.

"I'm fine," Zack insisted, giving him the most sullen look he'd ever seen from him. "It's just boring."

"Look at it this way: if Lazard knows how well you've done on this mission, he'll let me assign you bigger ones," Angeal suggested.

It didn't help much.

They got there eventually, but it took a colossal amount of concentration, will and stubbornness. Angeal still wasn't entirely sure that Zack wasn't suffering very unduly for the sake of some mission reports, but he got through them. That was all that counted, really.

"Ugh," said Zack. "You know it's past curfew now," he whined.

"You don't have a curfew."

" _Cloud_ does. He's homesick. I was gonna take him some stuff my mother sent, but..."

And now Angeal felt bad.

Dammit.

"...I'll just have to sneak in!" Zack said, giving him beaming eyes and a cheerful wink.

Angeal opened his mouth to explain what an enormously terrible idea sneaking into the cadet barracks after curfew was, but he closed it again a bare second later.

"...Don't get caught," he sighed, and determined that literally everybody he knew was an awful influence upon him.

"Please," scoffed Zack, delighted.

They were both significantly less delighted when Zack got lost crawling through the vents at three o'clock in the morning.

It was, at least for Zack, probably lucky that the roof he fell through was Angeal's.

Angeal, on the other hand, had been sleeping peacefully in his large bed, pressed naked and clean against his fresh sheets. No dreams were forthcoming, and no thoughts of anybody he cared about in danger had to be entertained. It was the best kind of sleep there was: deep, peaceful and untroubled. _Nice_.

He was woken by the shriek of weakened metal giving way, the crack of breaking plaster, and the sudden, horrifying _crash_ of something way too big to be a rat ploughing through his roof and slamming into the floor somewhere between the foot of his bed and the door.

Angeal did what any sensible employee of the great and _weird_ ShinRa Electric Company would do to the three o'clock visitor crashing through his roof: he wrenched himself out of bed, clamped his hand around the hilt of his weapon, and threw his whole weight behind an enormous blow.

There was a startled yelp, another crack, and -

\- "Oh my - _Shit_!" shrieked Zack, rolling sloppily to one side amidst the debris in the dark.

The buster sword cleaved straight through the plaster and metal and embedded itself into the floor. Angeal withdrew it effortlessly, despite the protesting scrape of the architecture. He was tensed, unclothed but not unarmed, and ready for pretty much anything.

But he knew that voice. "...Zack?"

" _Shit_ ," said Zack again, sounding faintly traumatised.

Angeal couldn't see him, which was weird, because he was a First and his eyes were really good.

"...Zack, are you...?"

Angeal hit the light switch. Predictably it did nothing. The wiring was probably shot. He flicked on a lamp instead.

And, yep. Yes.

"You're under my bed," he pointed out, prodding Zack's extruding spike of hair with the flat of his blade.

"Well, _yeah_ ," said Zack, tilting his head back and going almost cross-eyed looking at the sword so close. The warm light from the lamp was kind to him, but Zack's face was definitely paler than usual.

Angeal leaned the buster sword against his wall and sighed heavily. "Do I even want to know?"

"Um..." said Zack, sounding very much like he was searching for a deflection. "Your penis looks like a cactus," he blurted, which was absolutely not what Angeal had been expecting to hear.

As deflections went, it was a pretty good one.

Angeal looked down. That was an apt description. Even more apt when it was erect, but among things Zack didn't need to know, he didn't need to know that _the most._ "Yes," he said blandly. Then, with an effort of will, he heaved himself back on task: "Although that doesn't explain why you fell through my roof."

"...um," said Zack, apparently incapable of tearing his eyes away from Angeal's crotch.

"I'm going to put some pants on," sighed Angeal, turning away.

"Thanks," whispered Zack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there was something you liked about this chapter, let me know with a comment! Next chapter features more Genesis-and-Zack interaction which ought to make Angeal verrrry nervous :)


	6. False Equivalency!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tone whiplash, some sex toys, some porn. You know how it is.  
> Genesis makes a really valiant effort to explain sex toys to Sephiroth and it doesn't necessarily go well, but this story is 90% pornography so they make it work in the end. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

It transpired that, when visiting his cadet friend well after curfew, Zack had been startled by a wandering Turk and hoisted himself into the ventilation. He'd avoided having to explain himself and getting Cloud into trouble, but once up there he'd gotten lost.

It was literally luck that he'd fallen through Angeal's roof.

And not, say, the apartment one door down, which was Genesis's.

(Genesis, who was at _best_ kind of high strung. Who dealt poorly with unpleasant surprises. Who thought Zack was at best a nuisance who took Angeal's attention from more important things (namely Genesis). Who would not have known a proportionate response if it walked up and bit him.

Genesis, who had just come back from the front.)

"Zack," said Angeal, while scenes of terrible carnage wrote themselves before his mind's eye. "Don't crawl through the vents. In this case... it's better to be caught by the Turks."

"Ahh... well, I didn't think I'd fall through," Zack said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Is it really okay to have that kind of unsafe structure..?"

"I don't think they're designed for crawling through," Angeal said tiredly, rubbing his eyes. His bed was too much of a mess to bother cleaning up at three in the morning. He'd fix it tomorrow.

The whole room was covered in plaster dust and the occasional dead moth and old insulation, and Angeal looked around at it and went to get a spare blanket. He could nap on the couch, and honestly he had to get up in two or three hours anyway.

"I'm really sorry," Zack said.

"Yeah," Angeal agreed, too groggy to be more comforting and too kind to respond with the _you will be_ that wanted to escape.

"Sooo," Zack said, when they got out into the significantly less dusty living area of Angeal's apartment. "Cactus."

He was going to have to explain this at some point, wasn't he? Now that Zack had noticed, he'd never let it go - and if Angeal didn't tell him, Gaia only knew what kind of reasoning Zack would come up with on his own.

Angeal slumped onto the couch and rubbed his forehead. Both of them could see just fine in the low light - a sliver of street light and luminous smog peeking in through the blinds - and neither made a move to turn one on. "It's a... side effect. Of treating a sickness that probably would have killed me - the same thing that was making Genesis sick. We're part of a different program than the other SOLDIERs, so you and the others probably don't need to worry about it, but for us..."

"And... one of the side effects... was cactus penis?" Zack looked baffled.

"The side effects differ, but they're all mutations. Genesis was... somewhat more fortunate."

"That wing was pretty badass, I heard," Zack agreed blithely.

Right. The... wing. That had definitely been what Angeal was talking about. He coughed, slightly embarrassed.

"But how do you -" Zack paused, and then looked away like he'd just now realised that this line of inquiry might be a little personal.

At another moment, Angeal probably would have hesitated, but it was three in the morning and he was tired and groggy and had very little room left for embarrassment. "I don't," he said flatly.

This wasn't... entirely... true, but he was certainly not getting into the specifics with his student. Certainly not at three in the morning and covered in plaster dust.

Zack gave him a look that was about three hundred per cent horrified. "But-" He paused. Swallowed. "I... guess it is better than being dead?"

Angeal noticed that he asked it like a question.

"Zack," sighed Angeal, "just... let's just go to sleep. You can go back to your room in the morning." With _out_ leaping into the roof to get away from wandering Turks, preferably.

There was a long pause.

"I'm sorry about your roof."

So was Angeal, but not as sorry as he would have been had Zack managed to startle Genesis or Sephiroth. Once he was less annoyed he knew he'd feel like it was better this way than any other possible outcome. "Sleep, Zack."

Another pause. "Um... move over?"

Angeal debated whether or not he was cruel enough to make Zack sleep on the floor. He grunted and shifted sideways. At least Zack always slept like the dead, so there'd be no tossing and turning.

* * *

 

"You have a great many sex toys," Sephiroth said bluntly.

Genesis rolled his head to one side. He was sweaty, bruised, bleeding from six or seven new scratches, and his shoulder was absolutely dislocated. His chest was heaving from exertion and he was almost numb with how little mana he had left.

Sephiroth, damn him, looked only a little dishevelled. There was a hairline scratch over his cheekbone, a hit that Genesis had paid dearly for when Sephiroth had hurled him through a building in retaliation.

He'd still gotten first blood. That had to be worth something.

The VR room was significantly worse for wear. He could already imagine the expression on Lazard's face.

"What?" Genesis levered himself up on one elbow, ignoring the fierce protest of his opposite shoulder.

"...sex toys," said Sephiroth, dropping down next to him.

Genesis was not sure why Sephiroth seemed to think this was a good time to discuss his sex toy collection, but he wasn't easily embarrassed. "Yes," he agreed.

He could already feel parts of his body healing the damage that had been inflicted and he braced himself for the completely vile sound and sensation of his shoulder wrenching itself back into place.

For a second his stomach flipped and he saw stars, but it passed quickly. He rolled his shoulder experimentally. He healed a lot better without degradation getting in the way, he'd admit that much.

It took him a moment to realise Sephiroth was asking _why_ he had so many sex toys.

He frowned. "Because they're fun? Sometimes people send them to me," he added thoughtfully, thinking about the completely bizarre things he'd been sent by various members of Red Leather over time. He absolutely didn't miss the way Sephiroth's expression went completely blank at that statement - he gave away more than he thought by showing no reaction. "But mostly because they're fun."

There was a long pause before Sephiroth said anything else. "You... use them for things that Angeal or I aren't comfortable with? Or... when we're not present?"

Genesis tilted his head back. "No?"

"I don't understand," Sephiroth said, looking increasingly perplexed. Which, on Sephiroth, meant that there was a small crease between his eyebrows."Are we ...doing something wrong, then?"

Oh.

_Oh._

"No," said Genesis slowly. He hadn't really considered that Sephiroth might be the one to get insecure about this kind of thing. He wanted to laugh. Or throw a nice, self-contained Fira in his direction.

Then he realised exactly why Sephiroth had chosen to have this discussion after a particularly vicious post-reunion sparring session. Genesis didn't have enough mana to set him on fire. Sneaky.

Sephiroth got up and offered him a hand, which Genesis ignored. He didn't need Sephiroth's help to get up. He heaved himself to his feet, feeling a serious twinge down his spine - that was what he got for hitting a wall at high speed.

Sephiroth was left with his hand dangling out in the air, untaken. Genesis eyed it

Sephiroth put his hand away.

"So then... why would you need so many?"

Genesis popped his spine, stretching more to buy himself time than because he really needed to hear every joint pop and crack. "Are you seriously complaining about me masturbating?" he wondered.

A pause. "... No," said Sephiroth mulishly, but he sounded uncertain. Confused.

"It was a rhetorical question. You're complaining about me masturbating." He had to pull quite hard on the haft of his sword to remove it from the wall where it was embedded. Because they were in the VR room, he wasn't that surprised when something inside the wall sparked. Best put that through to maintenance posthaste, he supposed.

"I'm... wondering why you require such an array of mechanical aids when you have partners."

Genesis tilted his head. Yeah, he was definitely complaining about Genesis masturbating. Then an idea occurred to him and, utterly delighted, he asked: "Sephiroth. Are you _jealous_ of my vibrators?"

The thought was a strange but wonderful one. He was electrified, thrilled, inspired by it, like the wide universe had opened up before him and it was ripe with potential he'd never known before. What else might be possible in a world where General Sephiroth was jealous of his sex toys?

"That's not what I said," Sephiroth said, shifting on his heels.

Genesis eyed him. It might not have been what he'd said, but it was coming across loud and clear. He abruptly came to the wondrous conclusion that Sephiroth was sexually insecure not because their relationship necessitated the occasional (ill-advised but unavoidable) comparison to Angeal, but because Genesis liked sex toys.

He opened his mouth to tell him that sex toys did not generally provide the degree of attention and blind besotted dedication he required from a partner, and that Sephiroth should be more concerned about Angeal, who was after all helplessly, obviously in love with both of them. About a quarter-second later he decided that maybe it was better if that thought wasn't planted in Sephiroth's pretty (if apparently empty) little head.

Sephiroth was by far the stupidest genius ever.

Genesis laughed.

Sephiroth gave him a blank face.

"Was that experiment with Angeal your first time using a toy?" he asked curiously.

It took Sephiroth a moment, as though he was contemplating how revealing the information to Genesis might give him something to take advantage of, but after that second he nodded.

"It's not the same with a partner. It's a very different thing."

The sceptical look he received spoke volumes.

"It is. It's - It's literally the difference between masturbation and sex."

"...you're saying you require... mechanical intervention... to masturbate."

"Require? No. But it's fun. What's more interesting is that you're saying you're worried that when I compare you to silicone and batteries, you'll come off second best."

The expression that crossed Sephiroth's face was extremely offended. Genesis was strongly reminded of a cat that had fallen from something high and couldn't quite understand how its natural grace and balance had failed it.

Genesis could not help his smile. "False equivalency," he declared, and then went on. "You're comparing two things that aren't similar in the way your comparison implies. There's no point comparing sex with actual partners. It's like saying "you like pumpkin so there must be something wrong with this apple". It's a fallacy of inconsistency." And also people who didn't like apples couldn't be trusted, anyway, he added internally. He frowned at nothing.

"Apples," murmured Sephiroth, looking less sceptical and more uncertain.

"Sure. Ask Angeal," Genesis nodded, finally unearthing the interface from beneath a stray metal beam - which, now that he thought about it, had probably been pretty important in the room's structure. Hmm. "He'll agree. How urgent would you say maintenance is?" he added.

Sephiroth glanced around. "It appears to be safe to walk in," he said cautiously. "But I wouldn't recommend testing that too thoroughly."

Genesis decided that was pretty urgent, so marked his maintenance request thus.

Then he grabbed Sephiroth by the arm. "Come on," he demanded, and pulled him away from the VR room and down toward the lifts.

"I only have two hours," Sephiroth warned.

Genesis was already running the time limitation in his head. Two hours. Sex, shower, food; they could do that. He was... pretty sure. Probably. He was still kind of depleted, but he doubted he'd need that much energy to introduce Sephiroth to the concept of sex toys. They didn't require a lot of explanation.

"Then move faster," he suggested.

Passing Angeal's doorway, they both saw a faintly concerned looking maintenance crew hovering around, and from the plastery smell, Genesis thought something must have broken - which was weird, because Angeal wasn't usually hard on his walls like Genesis could be.

Still, he couldn't have been injured. They'd have been told. He glanced at his PHS to make sure then decided to think about that later. Now, he tugged Sephiroth past the surreptitiously gawking maintenance workers and back to Genesis's own rooms.

"Do you ever tidy in here?" Sephiroth wondered, and couldn't seem to help himself when he picked up a cruelly defaced newspaper from the floor to throw in the bin. His aim was perfect.

Briefly, Genesis considered responding with _do you ever want to get fucked again_ , but they'd both know it was a bluff. Not even a good bluff, really.

"The fates are cruel," Genesis drawled instead, "and I am busy."

He kicked the bedroom door closed behind them. At least here, all the 'untidiness' was his clothes thrown over furniture and a half-emptied pack.

He pushed Sephiroth not-very-gently toward his bed. They were still a bit of a mess from training, but he'd change the sheets later.

They had a time limit here, and Genesis had his priorities very much in order.

* * *

 

Genesis had a _lot_ of sex toys.

Sephiroth had noticed this when he'd been digging through them on Angeal's behalf, but now instead of looking for something specific, he was just... sort of presented with them.

From under his bed, Genesis kicked out his industrial crate of sex toys and popped open the lid. It was precisely as Sephiroth remembered, really: straps and collars and strings of beads, soft ropes, cuffs, a blindfold, several variations on the same sleeve he'd used with Angeal...

The memory that rose unbidden was of Angeal melting over Sephiroth, all relaxed pleasure and hard breath. He could almost hear the deep vibrating rumble of his voice.

"He liked that, then," said Genesis, picking up one of the sleeves and swinging it just out of reach.

Sephiroth eyed it, blank faced and impassive. "He did," he agreed.

Angeal had liked it, and Sephiroth was... curious, to say the least. He shifted uncomfortably, ignoring the way Genesis's eyes narrowed on him.

He returned his attention to the box. Genesis owned what Sephiroth felt was a really unnecessary number of artificial penises in strange shapes and unlikely sizes (on both ends of the size spectrum, honestly), and now that he'd dragged Sephiroth back to his room to introduce him to them he was completely shameless about it.

It didn't make a lot of sense to Sephiroth. He and Angeal _had_ penises. Genesis was familiar with them. Genesis wasn't shy about availing himself of them: he was loud and enthusiastic and occasionally aggressive about it. Admittedly, they were still working out some of the kinks with Angeal's newest mutation, but he was sure they'd reach a satisfying conclusion eventually.

Genesis dropped the long, black-bodied cylinder containing the sleeve once he realised where Sephiroth's attention had drifted.

"Do you want to try one?" he prompted, picking through them with his long fingers.

Sephiroth prodded one. It wasn't huge or terribly intimidating, but it had an odd shape. It was a sinuously curved thing of silicone, hard but with give in the material.

He frowned at it, wondering what that might feel like.

Genesis, for his part, looked at the intent expression on Sephiroth's face and snickered.

Sephiroth looked up.

"What a weighty decision," he mocked. "You look like you're trying to decide on how to distract a Wutaian camp. If you don't like it, we stop and do something else."

That... was true. There was nothing really to lose.

Still, he hesitated. Sometimes it wasn't easy to be open or vulnerable with Genesis. There was something sharp and cruel in him with Sephiroth, a holdover full of needled pride. He could be like a familiar knife after sharpening - you got used to the duller edge and, all unexpected, cut yourself.

He didn't respond any better to mistrust, though, and Sephiroth thought that these days he never truly meant to wound.

"All right," he said finally.

Genesis's smile was almost friendly - and just a little wicked. "All right then," he purred. "Strip and let me take care of you."

Sephiroth had obeyed worse orders.

He stripped and tried to settle, but there was an anticipatory nervousness in his gut that made it hard to relax.

Genesis's hands were warm, large across the palm with long dextrous fingers that splayed across Sephiroth's broad body, across the line of his hip and the soft dip and curve of his abs. He ran the tips of his fingers softly over the bare curve of his cock, still flaccid and soft.

Sephiroth twitched. The touch was soft enough that he barely felt it, but he was sensitive there - sensitive enough that even the heat from Genesis's fingers felt significant. The gentle touch and the soft tug of long fingers through the silvery hair there made the muscles in his belly clench and relax, so of course Genesis did it again.

Genesis wrapped his hand around the outer curve of one of Sephiroth's powerful thighs and lifted his leg, leaning in to kiss the inside of his thigh. His dry lips felt rough on the silky skin there, and then he opened his mouth and let him feel his teeth.

His breath was hot and damp and Sephiroth could feel the wash of it over his cock. Beneath the soft rush of his exhaling, his mouth was wet and his teeth pulled on the skin, and it sent a shivery rush up Sephiroth's spine.

He sucked hard enough on the inside of Sephiroth's thigh that he'd probably leave a mark for at least a few minutes. At least until his healing took care of it.

Sephiroth let his head drop back and sighed softly, relaxing into the sheets.

"Better," said Genesis, rubbing the ball of his thumb down the thick corded muscle in Sephiroth's thigh. It was a good feeling, pleasant and luxurious. He found a tube of lubricant in his giant box and tugged it free.

"Mm," said Sephiroth, feeling the tension drift out of most of his muscles. It was rapidly replaced with a kind of restlessness low in his belly, an awareness of all those gentle touches and soft-scraping nails and blunt teeth.

Genesis bit him, this time less gently. Sephiroth tipped his head up and gave him an unimpressed look down the long lines of his own body.

The _pop_ of the cap was pretty loud in the quiet of the room, and the lubricant was cool when Genesis ran his slippery fingers down his cock and over his balls. He twitched at the feel of sudden pressure on his perineum, all cool and tickling in such very sensitive places.

It was almost a kind of relief to feel the pressure of Genesis's fingers at his sphincter. That was their end destination, and once they were there it was a lot easier to adjust than to anticipate. There wasn't much teasing about the touches now - they were almost clinical in their efficiency, working carefully but quickly toward stretching and slickening.

Sephiroth relaxed. Really, this was fine. It wasn't that different at all. Sex with Genesis was familiar and, generally speaking, a good thing.

"Ready?"

"Yes."

The toy was... not at all like a penis, actually. Sephiroth had experienced those before, but this was slick and hard with less give and more curvature. It felt strange and inorganic, too, where his body seemed to automatically expect the velvet-soft skin and swollen hardness of an actual cock.

He shifted. Maybe it would be different, once it was in properly.

Sephiroth discovered why that toy was shaped so strangely shortly after Genesis had gotten it in all the way to the hilt: the sinuous question-mark shaped end of the thing put a steady pressure on his perineum. It was long enough to reach every sensitive thing buried deep inside him, and the pressure there was...

He swallowed and squirmed. It felt... strange.

He had an erection - it was difficult, really, to _avoid_ an erection, with all the touching and kissing and gentle biting and Genesis dark-eyed and beautiful between his thighs - and he certainly enjoyed Genesis' attention on him in this way, but he wasn't sure if he liked the specific pressure inside him, exactly.

Every time he shifted uncomfortably, though, the heavily textured head of the toy Genesis had picked rubbed up against his prostate through the large intestine. It didn't feel good, exactly, but it definitely felt like he was going to come.

He frowned.

"Is this supposed to do something?" he wondered. The toy wasn't anywhere near as deft or clever as Genesis's long, dextrous fingers, although he supposed that if they left it in long enough the persistent weight and heft of it would probably drive him mad. Was that the point?

"Not for everyone," Genesis admitted.

"For you?"

He tilted his head. It was kind of a stupid question. Sephiroth knew exactly how well Genesis would respond to this sort of treatment. He'd probably have been gasping and arching and scratching Sephiroth's skin by now.

Actually, that thought did a whole lot more for Sephiroth than the actual toy was doing. He could feel something in his belly tighten just thinking of it.

"Think you'd prefer one that vibrates?"

He rolled his hips cautiously, shuddering at the pressure. "I could come like this," he admitted uncertainly.

"A lot of men can," shrugged Genesis. "But not necessarily because they like it."

Ejaculation divorced from pleasure was a strange thought, but it did sort of feel like that. It was... perplexing. "You said you're sure Angeal doesn't like this?"

"Nothing bigger than a finger," sighed Genesis wistfully.

That was something of a pity, since Angeal enjoying this sort of stimulation would absolutely help their present dilemma.

"Although, actually..." a curious expression crossed his face for a second.

A second later he spilled to his feet and the sudden movement of the mattress made Sephiroth blink, hard, unable to stop himself from flinching at the sudden shift of the toy in him. Ow. Or. Not ow? _Something_.

"That wasn't a good face, take that out," Genesis decided from the other side of the bed.

Sephiroth wasn't sure if he wanted to do that. Manoeuvring to remove the toy would make it rub everywhere pretty hard. He wasn't...

Well, it could hardly stay in forever. He clenched his jaw and shifted, ignoring the odd pull in his belly and the strange spreading pressure inside his butt. Withdrawing it made him shudder in a way that was... hard to judge. He couldn't tell if it was pleasant or unpleasant.

"Mm," said Genesis, coming to lean down and press his mouth to Sephiroth's belly in a kiss. His tongue was hot and slick, and then when he withdrew his breath cooled the wet trail there and made Sephiroth shiver. "Not this one, then," he said, knocking the toy away like it had offended him.

"I've others." He looked sideways at the glowing figures on the clock at his bedside table, the one whose face Sephiroth knew he covered with a copy of LOVELESS when it just didn't suit him to know the time. "But maybe we should save that for later." Genesis looked up at Sephiroth along the long lines and planes of his body with a narrow, inviting smile. "I'd hate to make you late."

That was a lie, but an easy one to swallow.

"Did you - hm," Sephiroth cut himself off when Genesis crawled forward, balanced over him. The outside of his thigh slid pleasantly along the inside of Sephiroth's. He pressed kisses to him as he went, trailing up along his belly, over his ribs. His hair was nowhere near as long as Sephiroth's, but it still hung around his face and tickled gently on his skin.

"Mm?" Genesis murmured.

He didn't touch Sephiroth with gentleness or adoration or even as an expression of affection. Genesis touched Sephiroth covetously, like something he put his hands on because he wanted to and nothing else would satisfy. He tested each inch of skin and muscle with his fingers and hands and tongue and teeth, luxuriated in it, breathed him in.

"Did you find, for Angeal, what you were thinking of?" There was something not quite right about the framing of that, but it felt like every touch burnt away a little bit more concentration, a little bit more patience. Sephiroth skimmed his hands up Genesis's smooth-muscled waist, over his sides, up onto his shoulders. He dug his fingers in to feel the muscle give beneath them, firm and slightly yielding.

Genesis tugged on a nipple with his teeth like he couldn't quite help himself. It didn't hurt but it contrasted with the other touches, drew his awareness into his skin. It felt like his body woke up under Genesis's hands. Sephiroth breathed with it, through it.

"Yes," he said, after Sephiroth had almost forgotten what he'd asked. "Later."

Fair. Sephiroth lifted one hand to draw his fingers through Genesis's hair. It was not as soft as it looked, thick as it was, but the bloody red of it caught the light and gleamed. Genesis looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, bright with mako and glittering through the spill of it. His first thought wasn't of rubies or garnets or blood - it was of materia, of fire, power and the heady bloom of magic.

He gathered a handful of hair and tugged. Genesis arched against it, pulling automatically against the pressure and burying his face in Sephiroth's collarbone. He made a soft noise, somewhere between a growl and a sigh.

Sephiroth scratched firmly over his scalp and dragged his fingers down to his neck, pulling him up. Genesis took this guidance in the spirit it was intended for a change and came willingly.

Genesis smiled, a hot hovering line of muscle and potential right above him, and they shared breath for a second. Sephiroth pulled forward and Genesis drew back, just a little, smiling, smiling -

"Genesis."

He laughed, and then he ran his fingers up Sephiroth's neck, over the rapid pulse there, and up to cradle his jaw. They kissed and it was this breath-stealing, dizzying thing. Sephiroth closed his eyes into it and tangled his other hand in Genesis's hair as well. He dragged him down to slide flush against his body, delighted by heat and weight bearing him down into the sheets. Genesis bit, gently, tugged with his teeth and sucked on Sephiroth's tongue, careless and shameless. They separated with a new breath and a wet sheen on their mouths, all warm pleasure soft murmurs of contentment.

Genesis touched him and where his fingers went his tongue followed and in its wake it seemed like Sephiroth's body lit up, like his skin learnt how to crave again. His erection hadn't waned, but now he was desperately aware of it, all the tugging coiling sensation curled up low in his guts focused right there in his cock.

Genesis slid his slick fingers over the fat swollen head of it and Sephiroth let his head drop back, let his eyes flutter closed. He chased each touch, leaned in, arched up; his nerves screamed and ached for it, sensitive and wanting.

"Yes, good," murmured Genesis. Sephiroth opened one eye halfway just to give him a cranky look. He could probably roll them over, he thought. Genesis rarely got mad about being overpowered in bed. He could. But -

"Genes-" Genesis cut him off and kissed him again, this time harder, wetter, sloppier, a hot slide of tongues and saliva. When he drew back he left Sephiroth's senses reeling. He pressed his palm to the inside of one thigh and Sephiroth spread his legs without the slightest protest, quick and eager with his cock jutting thick and hard in the open between them.

Genesis looked down at him with eyes faintly glazed, pupils blown, with a gleaming wet mouth and the mako burning in his irises.

Sephiroth hooked one leg around him and reeled him in closer. "Come on."

There was the snap of a lid, slick fingers rubbing over his testicles and perineum, and the sudden slick slide of a finger deep inside him. After their brief experiment with the toy it went in easily, and Sephiroth could feel his internal muscles contract reflexively against the feeling. It was - a big feeling, hot, sensitive. He rolled his hips, clenching hard.

Genesis made a noise that wasn't really words, just a low hungry sound, and he tried another finger, then another, all in quick succession, flexing and pressing and _slower than necessary_. "Hurry up," Sephiroth demanded flatly.

Genesis made an aborted noise of pique, evidently torn between refusing to obey on principle and shoving his cock inside like they both so clearly wanted.

" _Genesis_ ," Sephiroth hissed. His whole body felt hot and weak and so, so ready. Genesis rubbed his fingers inside him just to watch him shiver.

He pulled them out with a soft noise in his throat and a dull squelching sound, and then -

"Still tight," Genesis said, half pleased and half wary, like he thought somehow Sephiroth would forget to tell him if it hurt.

"No. It's good. Keep - ah." Sephiroth flexed his hands in the sheets, tense and talonlike, straining to keep the rest of his body relaxed. Genesis's cock was bigger than his fingers, a tight fit, and the long slow slide of it was - he could feel it, big, feeling bigger inside than it actually was, thick and heavy and warm and soft hot skin, stiff.

He rolled his head back in the sheets and made a low, wanting, contented noise. "Oh, yes," he said to the ceiling. He knew where Genesis's head was from the silky slide of his hair and the hot breath on his skin, and he buried his hand in the hair there, tugging at it close to his skull. "Move."

Genesis did, finally. He drew back a little, enough for the air to cool the sweat slicking between them briefly, and then he rolled his hips, back in, hard. Sephiroth let his eyes close. Oh. Oh, yes.

"More," he said flatly, and more he got. Then, "Harder," he demanded.

"Pushy," Genesis said, but he sounded pleased and breathless. The hand that wasn't braced for leverage dragged over his stomach, long strong fingers carding - tugging gently, intentionally or otherwise - through his pubic hair. His fingers were still slick with lubricant and he wrapped them around Sephiroth's cock, no fumbling, no clumsiness; he rolled back the foreskin from the hot plush head of it and found the leaking tip and smeared the pre-ejaculate there with his fingers and -

" _Harder_ ," Sephiroth repeated, voice low and hard and _oh, yes, just like that_ , he could indeed go harder. The next hard shove he felt clean up his spine. It was hot and melting and he clenched his fingers in Genesis's hair. The bed protested and they both ignored it.

"Yes?" Genesis breathed into his neck.

"Mmm," he said back.

Genesis didn't ask again.

Sephiroth made low thin good noises on every exhale, clenched down on every thrust, felt hot and weak and stupid with it. The slide of his cock dragging in, pushing past the resistance of his muscles, pulling at his insides with a friction smoothed out by plenty of lubricant felt so, so good.

He breathed, chest heaving, and Genesis kissed his neck again, teeth, tongue, a new addition to the hot-wet-shivery-good feeling between them. His hand squeezed Sephiroth's cock again. Sephiroth groaned loudly.

"Genesis." Come on. Yes. _Close_.

Sephiroth could feel the ache of it growing in his belly, the impossible build of hot sweet sensation. He clenched his thighs around Genesis's body like a vise, hauled him closer with both arms, pulled him in and down and wrapped his legs harder around him. He ground up and into the movement, just -- hot. Good. Yes. He squeezed his eyes shut and every hard thrust made him see stars. 

Orgasm washed over him, thick, heavy, dragging him down into a senseless, murky bliss. He heard the breathless moan he made only distantly. He clung harder to Genesis's solid, strong body, crushed him closer to breathe in the scent and taste of him and dug his nails into his neck without thinking.

He felt - pretty distantly, although the way the headboard went _crack_ told him it should have hurt - Genesis slam into him again, and there was a sort of dull throb of pleasure up his spine, too sensitive but still _good_.

"Close?" he prompted.

Genesis exhaled noisily, a soft moaning sound on his breath, against Sephiroth's shoulder and he took that as a yes. He rocked his hips and scraped his nails through Genesis's hair and over his shoulders, clenching down with his weakly fluttering muscles.

"Shit," Genesis swore, then - "shit, _shit_ ," and a burst of tension, of enhanced muscles turned suddenly to steel, of straining tendons and harsh breath. Sephiroth felt like he could feel the hard twitch of the cock buried inside him, but maybe that was wishful thinking. He certainly felt the way Genesis shuddered, hard, and let out a low broken moan.

Sephiroth let him pant and moan while he waited for his own buzz to slow, for the chemical thrill of orgasm to drain away and leave him even a little bit able to think again. Genesis was - probably useless, really, for at least a little while.

Genesis's hips snapped forward again, clearly involuntary. Sephiroth shifted at the sensitive ache the movement sparked. The bed moved but didn't slam into the wall this time, and Genesis just clung closer. His muscles were trembling with tension still, and sweat darkened his hair.

Carefully, he unwrapped himself from around Genesis and rolled him over. There was a mess of semen and lube between them, but Genesis barely seemed to notice. He looked right through Sephiroth with unfocused eyes. His face was flushed fiercely. Even as Sephiroth drew him back into a comfortable curl against his chest he made a low noise, right through his teeth and clung closer.

"Oh Gaia, _yes_ ," he mumbled, digging his hand into Sephiroth's forearm, arching toward the warmth of him. "Yes. Mm, Sephiroth."

Sephiroth glanced at the clock beside them and, gingerly, he detached himself. He had almost zero desire to actually detach himself, and Genesis interrupted the effort with another low, throaty sigh of his name.

Genesis tugged at him.

"I have work to do," said Sephiroth. He gave Genesis one last look - mostly regretful, if he was honest, because there was nothing like watching this - before stumbling weak-kneed out of bed and toward Genesis's shower.

By the time he was ready to leave, Genesis was still not even close to lucid.

"No. Stay here," he said from the bed, all flushed and messy with his eyes glazed and his pupils blown wide. His mouth was wet, red around the edges.

Sephiroth hesitated beside the bed. It seemed like poor form to leave while his lover was still literally coming, but -

\- Genesis interrupted him with another shaking, gasping, completely pornographic noise.

If he didn't leave now he'd fall horribly to temptation and then he'd be really _really_ late.

He turned toward the door.

" _Sephiroth_ ," Genesis moaned breathlessly from somewhere behind him.

Sephiroth's steps faltered.

 _Don't turn around,_ he thought sternly. _Don't turn around_.

He clenched his jaw and kept walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry angeal you are having such a rough time in this fic. broken dick, broken ceiling, broken student, missing out on the pornography --
> 
> aw, man. next chapter my friend, next chapter.
> 
> anyway I'd you liked something specific let me know about it! otherwise: happy porning


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